The Great Escape
by CCNilesBabcock
Summary: When C.C. receives the most terrible news, her fears will make her push everyone away and hide from friends and family. Will she face this ordeal alone? Or there will be a special someone that will help her through it? Co-written with TheCrownedLioness
1. Chapter 1

**_Chapter 1_**

 ** _Meet Your Enemy_**

 _Tap. Tap. Tap._

That was the noise C.C.'s feet made as it impacted against the pristine hospital floor. She had arrived barely ten minutes ago, but for the blonde producer every minute felt like an eternity. It was no wonder, though, not when she might receive the news that would completely destroy her life.

She huffed in annoyance and looked between her wristwatch and the closed door in front of her. The haematologist should have called her in already, and C.C. couldn't help but to feel the desperate urge to go and simply kick the door down while demanding to be given her results. Being there in the first place was both anguishing and frustrating, really, but being kept waiting was proving to be more than she could bear.

And to think it had all started a few weeks ago during a backers' party…

Everything had been going smoothly that night – C.C. had socialised with the many backers in attendance, expertly wheedling them into investing in their newest play; she remembered they had gotten a lot more money than usual, but that probably had had to do with the fact Nanny Fine had been there, too, parading her petite body around in a skimpy dress. But it was not like she could complain about her own body, though – after all, she had lost around 25 pounds in the last two months and she looked great! Niles had teased her about it by saying she had secretly gotten a liposuction, but truth was that she hadn't done anything – and she truly meant _anything_ – to lose weight. She had simply gotten thinner, just like by art of magic.

 _Every girls dream..._

Anyway, back to what had happened the backers party; she had been drinking a scotch when she had felt a sharp pain on the side of her neck, and when her fingers travelled to the affected area they had come across a little, swollen lump underneath her skin. She hadn't realised that it was there before so – just to be sure – C.C. had thought about making an appointment with her doctor and get it checked.

As usual, work had gotten in the way and she hadn't make the appointment at first. However, her body had seemed to have a mind of its own and decided to suddenly remind her that she needed to do so by manifesting a myriad of strange and worrying symptoms. After that first episode with the alcohol, C.C. had been unable to drink alcohol without feeling that strange pain, and soon enough she begun to feel it under her armpits, too. Vomiting and abdominal pain had made their appearance a few weeks later – it had been then when C.C. had realised that maybe she did need to see a doctor.

She had made an appointment two weeks ago, and – just as she had suspected– she hadn't liked what she'd heard. After having told her doctor about her symptoms and having been examined by him, he had told her that – considering the symptoms she was experiencing – there was a possibility of her suffering from a type of blood cancer called Hodgkin's Lymphoma. Of course her doctor had tried to soften the blow by saying that maybe it was something else and that she still didn't need to be afraid, but C.C. was simply terrified and no amount of comforting words had been able to calm her down – the only thing that would calm her down now was a confirmation that she was cancer free.

Her doctor had made an urgent referral to a haematologist, and that's how C.C. had become Dr Jacobs' patient. The man had examined her too, and although he hadn't said that she might have cancer, the producer had been able to read the concern in his eyes. It was obvious that whatever it was that she had, it was not good at all…

Jacobs had ordered to undergo a series of test and a lymph node biopsy. The procedure had been carried out with no setbacks, and she had only been administered local anaesthetics. It had lasted around half an hour and she had been able to go home afterwards. C.C. had also chosen no to tell anyone about this mysterious condition, at least not for the time being – after all, she had always preferred to be secretive about her health... C.C. simply couldn't stand being looked at with pity or concern.

And she was finally moments away from knowing what was wrong with her...

She had been a ball of nerves these past two weeks; not knowing what she had was absolutely nerve wracking – hence her basically leaping out of her chair when the haematologist opened the door and asked her to come into his office.

"Good morning, Miss Babcock," said doctor Jacobs. "How are you today?"

She wished he hadn't asked that. It was obviously just something he said to everyone – a throwaway line that was supposed to make patients feel comfortable and give the impression that he really and truly cared beyond what was required for his profession. He'd know how she was really feeling, after having spent two weeks knowing that the days were counting down to whether or not she might be handed a death sentence.

She shut the door behind her, hovering, as though she might consider leaving again. Maybe it would be best not to know, and just take everything as it happened...

"Fine," she replied shortly.

From the tone of her voice, her general mannerisms, and the fact that the doctor would have had patients who'd behaved in the same way before, she knew it was a terrible lie. But she made no attempt at making it sound genuine – what was the point?

As the doctor seated himself at his desk, he pulled a file – her file, she knew – out from a drawer, and gestured to the seat in front of him.

"Please take a seat," he said. "I'm sure you're anxious to hear your results."

Yeah, _'anxious'_. No kidding. It was something akin to having one's insides clawed out over the course of two weeks.

And yet now, when she was mere seconds away from hearing what the doctor had to say and what could be done about it, the less she wanted to know. She could barely register her feet moving in the direction of the chair, and suddenly she found herself sitting, hands clasped, with the doctor heaving a breath like he was about to give bad news.

 _Just like he was about to give bad news._

She was almost certain she shouldn't be able to hear her own heartbeat like she was, or feel so cold in a room that was perfectly warm.

 _Oh God..._

"I'm afraid I have to tell you that it's not good news," Jacobs frowned deeply. "You have been diagnosed with Hodgkin's Lymphoma, and I have to tell you that..."

C.C. didn't hear what he'd said next. Everything seemed to blur out and her own thoughts took over.

 _Cancer_...she had cancer...

Part of her had realised that whatever it was that was wrong with her had to be bad, but she had never expected this... she had never expected to be given what she felt like a death sentence at the age of only 35.

The producer could feel her breathing quickening, her heart galloping in her chest and her hands were trembling – her expression, however, remained impassive. She wasn't willing to show the slightest bit of fear or sorrow, and she knew this was exactly how she was going to start behaving around people from then on.

Not to get her wrong, she was scared out of her mind, but she couldn't and wouldn't bear the pitiful looks. She would show no weakness. In her life she had come across with few people who'd suffered from grave conditions such as cancer, and what she did remember clearly, were the poignant and pitiful looks ill people received. She had never imagined they would someday be directed at her...

"Did you hear what I said, Miss Babcock?" the doctor said slightly more forcefully, starting C.C. out of her thoughts.

C.C. shook her head no – she might have been able to keep somewhat calm and collected until then, but her voice had gotten lost and showed no signs of wanting to return any time soon.

"I said that you'll now need to see an oncologist – I can recommend you one if you want. Once you've chosen your oncologist, they will be in charge of planning your treatment. The oncologist will determine the staging of your cancer and then will decide the best course of action for you to take."

C.C. nodded again, snatching her file from Jacobs' hands. She just wanted to leave, go somewhere where she could get absolutely wasted and forget about the horrors that were to come – she knew that she was going to have to undergo chemotherapy, or radiation therapy or both...

Either way it was absolutely terrible.

She could almost see herself in a few months time; she'd a weak, bald sick woman, withering away in a hospital bed. She could also see the pitiful looks of her family, the Sheffields, of Niles...

No… she wasn't going to let that happen. Not to her.

"Anything else I should know?" C.C. asked rising to her feet, ready to head for the door. She couldn't believe she still had to go to work after this.

Jacobs was somewhat surprised by her cold and detached behaviour – most of his patients, especially the ones who came alone, broke down the moment they were told about their condition, but Miss Babcock seemed to be almost undisturbed by it. He supposed it was a reaction out of shock and that when the news had truly sunk in, she'd crumble down – just like everyone else did. From the little he knew the woman he was certain that she wouldn't appreciate any type of comforting words and that, perhaps, it was better to let her deal with the news however she preferred.

"Well... apart from that, no," he stood from his chair, walked to the woman and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I am sorry you have to go through this, Miss Babcock."

C.C. flinched. Those words... those horrible horrible words... she didn't want people to feel sorry for her! It had only been five minutes, at most, and she was already being pitied?! She knew people felt compelled to say so, it was expected of them, but she resented it.

"It's fine," she replied in a clipped voice, shrugging so that the doctor would get his hand off her shoulder. "I'll survive."

Not wanting to hear his reply, the producer opened the door and strode out of Jacobs' office. Right then she didn't care about being polite or even saying goodbye to the man who had just handed her a life-threatening diagnosis, she only cared about getting out of there and heading towards the mansion, where work would keep her from thinking about this for now.

She didn't want to think about her... her cancer – Jesus Christ, even thinking about it made her feel sick to her stomach – at least not for now. She'd deal with it when she got to her penthouse, and maybe then this nightmare would start to feel a little more real than it did right then.

The journey to the mansion was even more stressful than normal. The traffic was at its usual level – horrible – and it only added to the frustration and other feelings inside that just made her want to scream. She tried listening to the radio, but she couldn't focus on anything that any station played, so she ended up switching it off. The silence in the car wasn't any better, but at least it was constant, unlike the continually changing ads and songs and DJs proclaiming how wonderful the day was outside and how all the listeners should just take a moment to appreciate being alive.

Yeah, that was exactly what a woman who had just been diagnosed with cancer wanted to hear, thanks very much WABC. _Really appreciate it_.

She hadn't calmed down by the time she'd come clear of the traffic and found a parking space outside the mansion. Trying not to deal with it was proving too difficult, but she had to keep it under wraps. There was no way she was going to let either the Sheffields or their insufferable excuse for a servant know what was going on.

She couldn't stand the thought of pity. She had never been pitied in her life, and she wasn't about to start accepting it now. Especially not from them.

Not that she imagined the butler would pity her, anyway.

The only thing she could imagine resulting with her demise was a rather large going away party that he volunteered to do everything for.

No. They had to remain in the dark over this. And she had to pick herself up and just deal with it. She was an adult – she could handle a thing like this. It was only one day of work, and then she could figure everything else out later.

She approached the front door and rang the bell. Soon enough, Niles appeared.

"You're late this morning," he observed. "Did your broom catch an ill tailwind and send you all the way to Midtown?"

The producer simply glared at the butler, but didn't respond. She just wasn't in the mood to engage in any type of banter today.

"My, is old age finally taking its toll on your hearing?" he tried again, following her into the kitchen. "And here was I thinking that your kind had an outstanding auditory range!"

Much to his chagrin, he was only met by her silence – as a matter of fact the producer didn't even look up from the cup of coffee she was preparing. The lack of acknowledgement from her part was both upsetting and strange; trading insults as normal people trade pleasantries was their version of normality, and for some reason his favourite sparring partner seemed to be unwilling to partake in their usual games.

He frowned. What was going on with her? Maybe she was upset about Mr Sheffield and Miss Fine's relationship? No… it couldn't be that, there had been no new developments in that regard. Maybe it was something else? Had someone angered her?

Niles leaned against the kitchen counter, carefully observing as she prepared herself breakfast – which was odd in itself because it was usually he who made it for her after she got to the mansion every morning.

His eyes traced her fragile figure – after Mr Sheffield and Miss Fine had begun dating, the blonde had earned an obscene amount of weight. The only thing she had done had been eat, but in the last months C.C. had lost a more than noticeable amount of pounds. Now she was even skinnier than before Fran and Max had gotten together, and her weight seemed to drop with each day that went past.

The odd thing was that she hadn't changed her eating habits, that much he was sure. She still ate every meal, indulged every once in a while and never said no to a piece of his cheesecake. He had been getting slightly worried about that recently...

Maybe this extreme weight loss had something to do with her awful mood?

And it was then when he noticed it – his close scrutiny of her figure resulted in him spotting something he hadn't seen before: a stitched cut just behind her left ear. It looked fresh, too. How had she done that?! Had someone hurt her? He walked to her, worry written all over his features.

"Babcock what ha-"

"Shut up," the producer interrupted him and pushed him out of the way.

She took her plate over to the table, seated herself, and started to eat. Hopefully Niles would do as he was told for once and stay silent. She wasn't in the mood to hear from him right then, if she ever was. She just wanted to eat in peace, and then get to work as soon as possible. Playing any little games was the last thing on her mind.

Though something in her mind suggested that, just before she'd silenced him, he looked concerned. But he couldn't possibly have been about to ask her if something was wrong – that wasn't the way they worked. No, he was probably about to say something he thought was clever, like "Babcock, what happened? Did someone forget to shove a stick with a slab of meat on the end through the bars of your cage this morning?". That would be more like it.

He didn't care enough for anything else. Not that she wanted him to. And not that she'd let on even if she thought he did.

Niles, meanwhile, stared at the back of her blonde head in frustration. What was going on with her that morning? Had something happened that she just didn't want him to know about? It was unusual, at best, for her to turn up late without either calling first to say that she had to be somewhere else, or forgoing breakfast to rush straight into the office and apologise profusely to Mr Sheffield before immediately starting the day's work. And even then, she'd still find the time to engage in their zingers, even if only one or two before she opened up a file to read a contract or when he brought her a cup of coffee.

This woman was different, and not in any way he particularly liked...

He watched her carefully, looking for any other signs that something was definitely wrong. He'd already noticed the weight loss, and now that scar behind her ear...what could that possibly be? Had she accidentally hurt herself and had to go to the hospital to get it seen to? It didn't seem like that much of an issue if so. It wouldn't be enough to put her in this much of a sour mood, anyway.

No, it had to be something else. Perhaps Mr Sheffield knew...

"Is there something you need, Minute Maid?"

Her snapping voice brought him out of his thoughts, and he realised he'd been stood there basically staring at her for several minutes. She'd finished her food, and was now sticking him with an impatient glare. He shook his head, answering her question.

"Then would you mind either doing your job and cleaning this up, or at least shuffling your decrepit body away so I don't have to watch it staring at me?"

Niles glared back at her. What on Earth was going on with her?! The air around them was tense, and he didn't exactly know why, but he felt a foreign and unexplainable sense of dread seeping into his pores, intoxicating his very soul. They held each other's gaze for some seconds that felt almost like hours, but the spell was broken by the sound of her phone ringing. The brief moments he had been able to look into his eyes, however, had been enough for him to realise that there was something terribly wrong – the sadness in the back of those baby blues told him so.

"What?!" she barked into the phone, but her scowl soon morphed into a slightly more relaxed expression when her brother's voice came from the other end of the line. "Noel... yeah, I left you a message..."

C.C. left the kitchen in a hurry, heading for the terrace. She knew that, although she wanted to face this thing alone, it would be impossible to keep it a secret from everyone. She needed at least one person she could trust to know about it, and the most logical option was her brother. She had left him a message just before she had left for the doctor – you know, just in case she received bad news.

The terrace was deserted, luckily, and much to C.C.'s relief she spotted Maxwell walking out of the office in that very moment, following his new girlfriend to God knows where – she was alone.

"How are you doing, sis?" Noel asked, "It's unusual for you to ask me to call at this time."

"I have cancer, Noel," the producer blurted out. She figured there was no sense in delaying telling him so, not to mention she didn't have the strength to have a normal conversation just then.

There was a long, painful and tense silence at the other end of the line, and C.C. could only hear her brother's hitched breathing.

"W-what did you just say?" he stuttered.

"I have Hodgkin's lymphoma..." C.C.' voice broke, but she refused to cry. Not yet, and not there. "I was diagnosed this morning, and I need you to come to New York."

"Of course I will!" Noel said, "I'll take the first plane there. What... what are you supposed to do now? Have you seen an oncologist? Do you know the stage?"

"No, I haven't seen one, but I have to. I was so upset I left the doctor's office before he recommended me one. And as for your last question, I'll only know after I've seen an oncologist."

C.C. leaned against the glass doors, taking deep, calming breaths to remain composed. This was far more horrible than she had ever imagined...

"Don't even bother, C.C.," Noel said, starting her out of her musings. "I will take care of everything. I have a colleague of mine that is a well-known oncologist, so he will be able to recommend me a good doctor in New York."

"Would you do that? I... I..." C.C. sighed, "Thank you. I don't have the strength to do anything right now... I just want to go home and lie down until this goes away... I know it won't, though."

The producer didn't know it, but a certain butler had just sneaked into the terrace and was eavesdropping on her conversation. Niles had only caught the last bit of her conversation, though – What did she mean? Until what went away? Usually when she mentioned wanting something to go away, it was him. But this sounded serious – far more so than anything else he'd ever heard her speak about.

She sounded so afraid, and yet so resigned at the same time, too...

He couldn't help but wonder why. Surely if something was wrong, she'd tell someone. Well, she was telling her brother right now, whatever it was, but the butler would have thought that Miss Babcock would at least tell Mr Sheffield if something was wrong as well, first and foremost because he was her employer and would need to know if something was going to affect how the company was run.

"Yeah...it's gonna be rough for a while," she sighed audibly.

Was that a shakiness in her words? She was hiding it well, but some of it still slipped through to Niles. She might have not told him what was going on, but they knew each other well enough to know when they were hiding something bad, or trying to disguise how they were feeling. It came with working in the same place over so many years.

"No, they don't," her voice suddenly turned almost sharp. "And they're not going to, either, so don't get any ideas."

Now this didn't sound good at all. The "they" she had mentioned could refer to two groups: either the Sheffields, or, as was more likely considering whom she was speaking to on the phone, Miss Babcock's own parents. Niles knew that she wasn't particularly close with either of them, despite an attempt on her father's part a few years ago, but what could possibly be so bad that she didn't even want them to know about it?

Whatever it was, if it was so terrible she was limiting herself to telling only one person, then why on Earth did she clearly want to go through it by herself?

"Alright… I'll try not to worry and let you take care of everything," the producer sighed again, opening the glass doors and stepping into the office. Her brother was truly a blessing – he was going to find her a doctor and a good hospital where she could be treated, two things she knew she couldn't do given her current emotional state.

"Thank you, Noel. I'll see you tomorrow…"

C.C. hung the phone with Noel and carelessly dropped it on the green leather sofa. Now that the voice of her brother had disappeared, the silence in the empty office was almost deafening, and the blonde could only stare blankly at the floor.

She was dying, and she was terrified.

How had this happened? How could it be that only a week ago she had been feeling completely fine and now her brother had to look for a good oncologist that would eventually arrange the details of what her treatment would be and where she would receive it?

The diagnosis was crushing, and C.C. didn't exactly know why, but now it felt a lot more real than a few moments before. The producer looked around her, taking her time to gaze around the place she had worked in for the past 14 years – this reality, her reality, was about to change, and for a very long time she would not be able to even step a foot inside the office. The place that had almost felt like home would be foreign in mere weeks, probably, and she'd venture into a new and painful chapter in her life.

In a sense, there was a part of her that wished to not feel anything, just like when she had first been told she was sick, but the more she thought about it, the more anguished she felt. The room was suddenly feeling very small and devoid of oxygen, and the waves of pain and sorrow – those which had not reached her until then – were hitting her without mercy. She felt as though she were in the middle of one of those furious storms, whose unforgiving gales battered the seacoasts and destroyed everything they came across with... the news were like a hurricane, and it had finally reached her, leaving only ruin and chaos behind.

C.C. looked at her reflection on the panelled glass doors that gave to the terrace. Her reflection was the one of a beautiful woman who – although slightly skinny – had an enviable hour-glass figure, shiny golden hair and beautiful and feminine features. In a few months that would be gone... in a few months she'd be nothing but skin and bones.

She reached out and rested her hand on the glass panel, as though trying to engrave her appearance on her memory. She could feel her walls, the walls she had so carefully built over the years, tumbling down, and after giving a furious roar, she smashed her hand against the window.

And the pain broke loose...

She began to cry, not caring that she was bleeding profusely or about what Maxwell's reaction would be when he'd discovered that she had broken his window. She was falling apart, brick by brick, pebble by pebble… and she didn't care.

"Miss Babcock? What are you doing?!"

Within a matter of seconds, C.C. felt herself being pulled gently away from the glass, which crunched under her heels as Niles tugged at her shoulders and guided her towards the sofa.

Of course she should have known the butler would be creeping around outside. It was just her luck that she'd broken the pane of glass right where he could hear it. She'd never hear the end of it, either – all the ammo he could now use against her like "Did you get startled by your own reflection?" and "It's a pity reflective things don't come with little warning labels like "Objects reflected may be uglier than they appear"."

Not that any of this seemed to occur to him just then. He'd made her raise her hand up to try and stop some of the bleeding, and was checking it in the light. When C.C. went to pull her hand away – she didn't want his help; she didn't need it, and if she was going to die a little thing like a cut hand wasn't exactly going to make much of a difference – he held her arm still.

"I know it hurts, but I need to check that there isn't any glass in there," he told her, firmly but calmly. "Now hold still. I can probably patch it up if it's not too deep, but if you've gone and done yourself some grievous bodily harm, I might have to drive you to the hospital. What the hell did you think you were you doing, anyway?"

C.C. didn't respond, she simply shrugged and resignedly allowed him to take care of her injured hand. The cuts weren't too deep, she could tell so, but she was bleeding a lot – the dizziness she began to feel told her so.

The butler didn't insist on getting an answer to his question just then, he was more worried about her hand to think about the reasons for her to idiotically destroy a window with her hand. The British man helped her stand up, guided her to the stairs and they made their way up to his room. She had her hand wrapped in a dish cloth Niles had given her, but as soon as they got to his room, Niles handed her a towel.

"Press this over your wound until I get something to clean it up," he ordered, looking for the first aid kit. He noticed, with no small amount of worry, C.C. didn't exactly seem interested in stopping the blood flow, but he had to act quickly, and reprimanding her would only slow things down. He carelessly retrieved some gauze, alcohol and bandages from the kit and then took the woman to the sink. She yelped in pain when he forced her to put her hand under the stream of warm water, but it allowed him to clear some of the blood and carefully remove the shreds of glass that were still in her wound.

"Now, I know you usually prefer to drink this stuff, but I trust you'll bear the burn," he said, unscrewing the cap of the alcohol bottle and pouring a generous amount on her open wound.

C.C. saw stars from the pain, but she endured it like the big girl she was. She'd have to endure a lot more in the months to come, after all. She merely moaned when he applied a second dosage of alcohol before drying the wound and bandaging it the best he could.

The butler gave his handiwork a once over and nodded, satisfied.

"You'll be ok, but I think we better go to the hospi-"

And it was as though an alarm had gone off inside C.C.. Going to a hospital?! With Niles?! No way! For one thing she wasn't willing to step a foot inside one until it wasn't absolutely necessary, and secondly, because she'd perhaps have to mention her condition – or worse, some dumb doctor would let it slip.

"I am not going to the hospital," she spat.

Niles' mouth hardened into a line, "So you're just going to let it be, hm? I can only do so much, you know – what if there's still glass in there that I've missed? What if it becomes infected because the alcohol wasn't enough? What if it needs stitches, Miss Babcock?"

He had some good points. But that didn't matter. If some doctor slipped up in front of Niles, the plan of keeping everyone out of her private business would be well out the window. Nanny Fine would know the minute the butler stepped through the door, which meant that Maxwell would know within the hour, which meant that they'd all be there around her with that godawful look of pity in their eyes and that was the last way she wanted anyone to ever look at her.

No pity. No feeling sorry for her. She'd been too strong her entire life for that, and there was no going back now.

"Oh come on, Niles, you know it's not gonna need stitches," she scoffed. "They're not that deep!"

"How can anyone tell that for sure?" he argued. "I'm not a doctor, and neither are you. And that doesn't take away the fact that that glass is thin and I could have easily missed some!"

"And if I feel a sharp pain in my hand later I'll know and I'll go to the hospital myself!" she snapped. Fat chance, she thought to herself. The injury she'd caused herself was fine, and she knew it –she'd be in a hospital soon enough, anyway. "But I don't need anyone to take me, and I especially don't need you!"

The woman flounced out of his room, tossing the bloody towel in which her hand had been wrapped to the floor. She didn't need this, she didn't need anyone to be looking after her now – not when she'd soon be confined to a hospital room and need to be constantly looked after by doctors and nurses.

For now, she just needed to be alone.

Niles could only watch her go in stunned silence. Nothing about her behaviour made sense to him... the unwillingness to banter with him, the phone call with Noel, smashing a window with her hand, refusing to go to the hospital... it simply didn't make sense.

He only knew that, whatever it was that was troubling Babcock, it had to be bad. And he'd be damned if he didn't find out soon enough.

* * *

 **AN: Well... not surprisingly TheCrownedLioness and I have come up with a new story! I know we have "After All" in progress, but we promise we'll update both stories regularly. I (L) am a week away from finally finishing classes (I am a teacher) and next week H will be on winter break! As for those of you who are wondering about my (L) other stroy, "Little Talks", I'll be uploding the new chapter this week!**

 **Anyway, we hope you enjoy our work and please we'd love you to review! It makes us really happy and encourages us!**

 **H &L**


	2. Chapter 2

**_Chapter 2_**

 ** _New Eden Clinic_**

"But C.C., it doesn't make any sense!" Noel screamed, banging his hand against her coffee table. "You do need to tell the Sheffields and our parents about this!"

"No I don't, Noel, and this is not open for a discussion. I don't want anyone else to know, okay?! Now, instead of losing time in fighting a battle you can't win, why don't we get down to business, hm?" C.C. replied sharply. Just as she had expected, her brother didn't understand why she wanted to keep it a secret, but she wasn't going to change her mind. She was going to do this alone, and that was it.

Noel glared at her, but conceded defeat. He knew his sister, and when she got something in her mind no one could make her change it. "Fine... fine. But I don't agree with this."

"I don't recall having asked for your blessing."

"I know, but even if you had, I don't agree with this. However, I know you won't change your mind," Noel leaned against the back of one of her sofas, holding an almost empty cup of tea in his hand.

"I am glad we are on the same page. Now, what was that clinic you were telling me about?" C.C. asked over the rim of her own cup of tea.

"Ah, yes... I found you an oncologist; his name is Gregory Wilson and he happens to work at New Eden Clinic, the hospital I want you to get treated in."

"But what is so special about this clinic, Noel?" C.C. asked, pouring some more tea into her brother's cup.

"You see, this clinic is a – shall we say – _elite residential treatment centre_. It's owned by a friend of mine who suffered from cancer a few years ago; he created this place for people with money who want privacy as well as proper cancer treatment."

"Hm," the producer bit the inside of her lip, still more than a little sceptical.

The words "elite", "proper", and "privacy" all sounded just about right, in her head. If she was going to keep as many people as possible from finding out about this, discretion was key. And as long as this hospital got their money, they'd probably be as silent as she liked. And if they could get rid of her illness, then all the better.

Not that she liked the prospect of having to go away for an extended period of time. The company would literally be split in half for all the days she wasn't there, and she doubted Maxwell would get everything done to keep them up and completely running by himself. Well, if she heard about a sudden lack of plays from Sheffield-Babcock Productions, she'd know why.

It wasn't like she could really refuse to be treated somewhere.

Well, she could, and she doubted most people would care if she did. She could, in theory, go away and spend the last few months of her life travelling, not bothering to let anyone know where she was going or what was happening to her. No one would even know until she turned up on an autopsy table somewhere, and someone had to go to it in order to identify the body.

But she wasn't going to do that. She knew it was stupid of her to even contemplate throwing her life away like that when she was being presented with a way out.

Not a bad sounding way out, either. Granted, the treatment would most likely be hell, but it was still treatment. And Noel had recommended the place...

She swallowed, "How do I go about being admitted?"

Noel delved into his pocket for an information booklet and handed it to C.C., who began browsing through it. The place truly looked wonderful – the clinic was not only located in the suburbs, far away from the bustling city and any unwanted company, but it also counted with numerous facilities that the patients could use while staying there; it had a library, an art room, a music room, incredible gardens, and even its very own cinema! The patients' rooms were also a sight to be seen; they were enormous, to start with, and each of them counted with a bathroom and a walk-in closet.

This clinic was exactly what she needed…

In a sense, it was like a five star hotel that provided medical care – and speaking of that, the medical staff that worked there was the best money could pay for.

She hadn't liked the idea of having to spend time in a hospital, but now it didn't really sound so bad. The clinic was comfortable beyond any imaginings, the staff was excellent and it offered the opportunity to rest and recover in a nice and tranquil environment. Needless to say, if she was admitted, she wasn't planning on telling anyone about it.

"You needn't worry about that, sister," Noel smiled at her. "As I said, the clinic is owned by a friend of mine, so I've already given him a call and he told me that he'll get you a room. The only thing we have to do is get you to see their best oncologist, Doctor Gregory Wilson, and after he has determined your staging and planned your treatment, you'll be admitted."

Well… that settled it, then. In just a few hours her brother had taken care of everything and she couldn't be more thankful. There was a reason why she had trusted him in the first place, and this was only further proof that she had made the right choice. The months to come were going to be incredibly hard, but knowing that Noel had her back and would do anything in his reach to make this more bearable for her, gave C.C. some peace of mind.

Now she only needed the perfect alibi to get away from the mansion without any of its inhabitants suspecting where she was really going… well, she still had time to think about how she'd get away, so for now she had to focus on planning her treatment. And the first step was visiting this oncologist.

"When can I see him? Do I need to make an appointment?" the producer asked.

"Actually, I took the liberty to call and say you'd be going at 2:00 PM."

C.C. glanced at her wristwatch and almost jumped out of the sofa. It was 1:15PM! She had to be at the doctor in less than an hour and she hadn't even put on her make up! Besides, she also had to be at the mansion at that same time, so she needed to come up with a decent excuse for her absence.

"Noel! You should have told me earlier! Now do me a favour, call the mansion and tell them that I… that my hand hurts and that we are going to the doctor to get it checked."

It wasn't a complete lie, she thought bitterly; her hand did hurt. Not that she'd tell Niles, but yesterday she had actually gone to the hospital to get it checked after she had left the mansion and, much to her chagrin, it had needed a couple of stitches. "Now I'll go get ready so we can leave for the clinic, alright?"

"Alright," he nodded in reply, picking up the phone and pressing the speed dial. "It shouldn't take too long to get there, don't worry."

C.C. was beyond worrying at this stage, hurrying around trying to get everything together. For now, all she figured she'd need was her purse and anything she could fit inside – money, make-up (just freshly applied), keys, etcetera. She didn't know how long it would take for this Dr Wilson to plan her treatment, but stopping to consider what she'd do about the penthouse and Chester in the meantime couldn't hurt.

Whatever she had in mind for that would have to feature in her alibi, whatever that would be.

As she busied herself with getting ready, she couldn't help but listen in on Noel on the phone with the mansion. Judging from the way he was speaking, it wasn't Niles that had picked up. He must have been out, and it was either Nanny Fine or Maxwell on the other end. Judging from the fact that she couldn't hear anything coming from the phone, she'd make a safe bet at Maxwell.

"No, no… she'll be just fine," her brother smiled, and nodded up at her before continuing his conversation. She knew he was trying to be both encouraging and trying to make it seem convincing for her employer, but she knew he couldn't really make that kind of judgement.

Of course he wanted her to be "just fine", but they had a long way to go before it was safe to assume that she'd be in any kind of realm of "fine".

With a heavy sigh, she slung her purse strap over her shoulder, and approached him.

"I'm ready, whenever you are," she said. "If you'd mind cutting short the chit-chat?"

Noel nodded minutely. He knew C.C. wanted to go and get this over and done with – truth to be told, he wanted so, too…

"Ah, Maxwell, I am sorry to cut the conversation short, but my sister is calling me. I suppose she needs some help with her hand… yes, I'll tell her so. Goodbye."

The professor hung up the phone, grabbed his wallet – which was laying on the coffee table – and rose to his feet, ready to go. Maxwell told him that he was worried about C.C.. Niles had told the Englishman exactly how Miss Babcock had broken the window, and although she had apologised and promised to pay for the damage, Maxwell sensed there was something else going on with his business partner. Noel had made his best to calm him down – to assure him that she was fine and that her inexplicable bout of rage had been a result of a stressful week and that she was now taking a day or two to relax.

Noel could only hope he had been convincing enough…

"Let's go, then. Want me to drive?" the professor asked, glancing at her injured hand.

"No, I'll do it…" she didn't elaborate why, but it was almost implicit that she wanted to do it because in some weeks she would be confined to a hospital – granted, a luxurious and comfortable hospital, but a hospital nonetheless.

The ride to the clinic was fairly silent – Noel did most of the talking, and C.C. was happy to listen. She didn't feel communicative right then, and her mind was mostly focused on the many ideas she had to disappear without a trace. There was one in particular that was incredibly appealing, but she'd need help from Bort and her brother to carry it out. She knew that her emotional state hadn't been the best since Maxwell had started dating Nanny Fine – not that she cared about that now, though – and everyone around the mansion knew so… so what if she faked some kind of nervous crisis? Like a mental break down? She could simply say that she had to get inpatient psychiatric care and that would explain her absence! She could also leave Chester with the Sheffields and Angelica, her maid, could take care of her penthouse by coming once or twice a week to clean it up. If her treatment took longer than expected, then she'd simply send her resignation letter alleging she needed more time to recover after such a " _traumatic breakdown_ ".

It was simply genius!

God, she hadn't felt this brilliant in a long time. Not in terms of her health, obviously, but having an idea like that one set her feeling like something might actually go her way for once, even if it came from a crappy situation.

That's why she couldn't help but beam as the car made its way up the driveway, towards the entrance of the clinic. The place seemed even grander in person than it did in the information booklet, but C.C. barely noticed because she was too busy congratulating herself as she pulled the car into a parking space. Noel noticed her look, and chuckled.

"I'd ask if you were just enjoying the hospital already, if I didn't know that smile," he said. "You have an idea about something. What is it?"

C.C. shook her head, and switched off the engine, "I'll tell you later."

The siblings stepped out of the car, making their way towards the front doors of the hospital – the reception was just beyond, through the glass. Noel trailed a little behind his sister, who was determined to get in to see the oncologist and get a plan of action as soon as possible. She'd have to see this guy to know for sure if her plan would work – he'd have to be in on it, and to know if he'd be in on it, she had to meet him and work out if he was the kind of man that would go in for helping patients out in pulling ruses.

"Come on, Ceec, you can't leave me hanging like that!" Noel exclaimed, practically power walking to catch up with her.

Grinning, the producer stopped and turned to him, "Oh yes I can, dearest brother of mine, and I will. We need to get in and see this doctor you said about, and I don't want what I have in mind interfering with this appointment. At least, not right away, until I figure out what kind of deal I can expect from him. Then I'll let you know. Besides, you're gonna be an important part of the plan, so I can't leave you in the dark forever."

Noel smirked, shaking his head, "Always the secretive one, Chastity-Claire. I'm going to hold you to your word that you'll tell me soon."

"I never said soon," C.C. said pointedly. "I said when I've figured out what this doctor's deal is. It might change my plan entirely, who knows?"

Now it was Noel's turn to smirk. It was not just by chance that he had recommended her that doctor, and he was more than certain that his sister and Dr Wilson would get along just fine. He remembered meeting Wilson once before, when he had last visited his friend at the clinic. The oncologist was not only brilliant, but he also had an acerbic type of humour that would be really appreciated by C.C.. He also knew Wilson had a tendency to be a prankster and enjoyed witty wordplay, much like his sister did.

"Oh, alright…" Noel said, accepting defeat as the crossed the glass doors and entered the reception. "I'll wait until you decide to tell me."

After Noel had spoken with the receptionist about C.C. having a last minute appointment with Dr Wilson, the siblings were guided to Wilson's office, which was located in the second floor. The oncologist had been told his patient had arrived, so by the time Noel and C.C. reached the office he was already waiting for them at the door. The man was probably in his late forties, had pair of incredible sky-blue eyes and a charming smirk; if C.C. was being honest, there was something about him that vaguely reminded her of Niles, and for some inexplicable reason she liked him already.

She kind of hoped that he had a penchant for trouble and jokes, too – it would make convincing him to aid her in her ruse a little easier.

"Good afternoon Mr and Miss Babcock," the oncologist said, giving them way to enter the office. "Now, I won't ask how you are doing since you have just been diagnosed with a life-threatening condition – the answer is rather obvious, don't you think?"

C.C. arched an amused eyebrow and chanced a glance at her brother; Noel was smirking, too – he obviously knew this doctor had a peculiar and rather dry personality, and she couldn't help but be thankful for that. She wouldn't have been able to abide her oncologist being one of those doctors that treated their patients with kitten gloves or like they were a mere number.

"It's quite an idiotic question to ask me right now, I must agree," the producer said, stepping into the office and taking a seat before Wilson's desk – he was surprised to find that he already had a file with her name laying on top of it. Noel and the doctor soon took a seat, too, and silence floated around them from some seconds. But it wasn't a tense silence – actually, she felt rather comfortable around her new doctor.

"So, I'll go to the crux of the matter – you have cancer. Your file says you have Hodgkin's Lymphoma but we have yet to discover the stage, correct?"

C.C. nodded. She was liking this guy more and more with each second that went by – he was straightforward and didn't sugar-coat her condition. Perfect.

"Good. Well, we need to do some routine tests, including another lymph node biopsy and blood tests, so we can determine your staging. We can actually make those two tests tomorrow, and we'll get the results in just a few days. Then we'll do an x-ray of your chest and a PET-CT Scan," the doctor explained, writing down the procedures that he'd carry out on her file. "Let me tell you, from the information already in your file, it's almost certain that you have – at least – two lymph node groups affected, so we are talking about a stage 2 or above type of cancer. Bear in mind that this equals to a minimum of 6 months of chemotherapy."

C.C. couldn't help it; her shoulders slumped and she let out an audible breath which corresponded to both shock and disappointment. Six whole months? Or perhaps more?! She knew it would be some time, but she had no idea it would take that long! Could she really be there for so many weeks, having nothing to do, and just allowing life to go on outside the hospital without her? What would happen to her work? Would the company be alright? C.C. suddenly didn't know if she could do this...she needed to work, and she was going to be stuck here not being able to do it...

Wilson smiled, and pointed a finger at her expression, "Ah, there it is. The look of realisation when the patient knows they're gonna be out of action for a while."

"A while?!" C.C. repeated in disbelief. "Dr Wilson, for someone like myself, being out of work for anything over four months is practically retirement!"

"But this isn't retirement, Miss Babcock," Wilson leaned back in his chair, resting his arms on the desk. "This is sick leave, and even high and mighty Broadway producers need it sometimes. Yes, I know who you are. I'm not really a man of the theatre myself, but word gets around and names get in papers, and occupations get put on medical forms. And being out for six months or so is a whole lot better than being out for all of eternity, wouldn't you say?"

C.C. had nothing to say to that. All she could do was admit he had a point, but she got the feeling he'd take that with a delivery of the smuggest comment she'd ever heard in her life. But she had also already agreed that she would allow herself to be admitted to this place, and it was nice there. She wouldn't be working, but given her condition, that was probably for the best anyway.

And she was also getting the feeling that this was exactly the right man to help her pull off her plan.

"Speaking of word going around and my occupation…" C.C. began, lifting her head to meet the doctor's gaze. "I suppose you know that I'd like my condition to not be known, right?"

"I suspected as much," Wilson said, grabbing a little ball from one of his drawers and tossing it from hand to hand. "But judging by the look on your face I suspect you have something else in mind."

C.C. couldn't help but smile. He was also perceptive… this was definitely the perfect doctor for her.

"Yes, I do. You see, I wish to keep my condition a secret from the press, my family and my friends, too, so I have a plan to, shall we say, disappear without people asking uncomfortable questions."

She could tell she had gained his attention, for Wilson stopped playing with his ball and his eyes shot up to hers. There was a hint of a smirk in the corner of his mouth, and she supposed that his silence was a wordless request for her to develop her idea. Her brother was interested, too – the fact that he was on the edge of his seat told her so.

"I will need to talk about this with my therapist, but I want to stage some type of mental crisis, which will require me to be sent away for a while. Of course that, if I want the plan to work, I need you to participate in the ruse," C.C. explained, not being able to contain the smug and self-satisfied smile that was spreading across her lips. Her plan was insane, she knew it, but it was the ridiculousness of it that made it so incredibly brilliant.

Wilson stared at her for a few seconds, his mouth hanging wide open. He carelessly dropped the ball he was holding and burst into a loud fit of laughter. This woman was absolutely insane, but he liked her boldness. He didn't exactly agree with her not telling anyone about her condition, but he wasn't going to give an opinion on a decision that wasn't his to make. Her plan was brilliant, he had to admit it, and seeing as he had nothing better to do and the days at the hospital were rather monotonous, he figured he could help her.

"That was your plan all along?!" Noel asked in disbelief while both doctor and patient laughed. "C.C., I know you don't want anyone to know about this, but staging a mental breakdown?! Don't you think it's a bit extreme?"

"Oh, please, it's perfect!" C.C. said between chuckles and while wiping away a few tears of mirth that were running down her cheeks. "No one will suspect a thing," she turned to her doctor, who had managed to calm down and was writing something down on her file. "So, are you gonna help me, doc?"

"You know, Miss Babcock, it's been a while since I had last been so thrilled to treat a patient! I'm not only going to help you, but I am also going to raise the stakes – why don't you come to the clinic in, say, three days? You could stage your mental breakdown, be admitted and you'll simply wait for the results of your tests here. After all, you were going to be admitted eventually, so why not speed things up?" Wilson extended his right hand at her. "Do we have a deal?"

She stared at his proffered hand. If there had been any extreme suggestion made in that room, it was asking if she'd be up and ready to leave her entire life behind in just three days. She'd need to get home, pack her bags, leave her dog at the mansion, call Dr Bort and arrange the whole thing...

Could she do it? Really and truly go for it? She'd been the one to suggest it, after all, and backing out just because she'd been given a limited timeframe felt more than a little cowardly. She'd been given deadlines before – her entire life revolved around getting things done quickly and efficiently, and she was no coward. This would prove that.

All she needed was to carry out the breakdown, and she needed to do that in front of someone she knew would try to do something about it. The butler was the perfect candidate. It might show him a thing or two, as well, and that was always a nice bonus.

C.C.'s triumphant grin returned, and she firmly grasped his hand in her own, shaking it firmly, "Indeed we do, Doctor."

"Then it appears we have an understanding," Wilson released her hand and made to stand up. "In three days time, you won't be C.C. Babcock, Broadway producer and socialite. You will be Miss Chastity-Claire Babcock, cancer patient and on the road to being treated. I know it doesn't have quite the same ring to it, but imagine how good it will feel to get back to the first description, huh?"

C.C. and Noel also rose from their chairs, exchanging glances. Her brother was looking at her as if he expected her to give an opinion through facial expressions right then and there. He found her expression somewhat unreadable, however.

"The sooner we get started, the better," C.C. nodded at Wilson, who grinned in return, edging around the side of his desk to walk across and open the office door for both Babcocks.

"Now that's what I like to hear!" he said cheerfully. "So go home, get yourself ready for your big performance, and I'll see you in a few days, okay?"

"I will, Dr Wilson. Thank you for taking part in this," the producer said with a weak smile and left the office, part of her wanting to be back home as soon as possible. She had a lot to do, after all, and there was no time to lose.

She walked down the corridor with her brother by her side. He had enveloped her shoulders in a kind of comforting hug; he could tell she was not happy about, as Dr Wilson had said, becoming Chastity-Claire, cancer patient on her road to recovery. But what choice did she have? If she refused treatment, then death would be the outcome, and she didn't want to throw her life away just because she was afraid of treatment. Yes, she was afraid, and although she hadn't said it aloud she wasn't going to try to deny it – at least not to herself.

Her life was about to change (probably for the worse), and everything and everyone she knew would become part of the past. But she had to be strong...

This was just a necessary evil in order to go back to being her usual, healthy and powerful cutthroat self.

At least, that's what she hoped.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Chapter 3_**

 ** _"_** ** _Grandmamma, Is That You?"_**

Niles stared numbly at the wheel, trying to keep from hyperventilating. He was still in shock, and he didn't quite know how on Earth he ended up having to take Miss Babcock to a mental sanatorium. The day at the mansion had started as any other – he had made breakfast for the family, teased Babcock about Miss Fine's engagement and then...

And then everything had gone wrong.

Ever since Miss Babcock had smashed that window pane she had been acting progressively strange; she was not herself, and it was as though a deep sadness had rooted inside her heart. They had always used insults as a way of communication, hence him never imagining that the producer's mind would snap like a stale breadstick after a round of teasing.

He had quickly realised there was something wrong with her after Miss Fine had shut the door in her face, but his worry had reached a summit when the woman had looked at him and said in an almost childlike voice _"Grandmamma, is that you?"_. He had immediately given Dr Bort a call, and the psychologist had instructed him to take the delirious producer to a sanatorium called 'New Eden Clinic'. The hospital was a few miles away from the city, and it was really beautiful. A man called Dr Wilson had already been waiting for them when they'd arrived – apparently Dr Bort had told the hospital C.C. was on her way there – and Dr Wilson had helped the producer to a wheelchair after the latter had said goodbye to Niles.

Well, she'd actually said _"Goodbye Grandmamma!"_ which had only made the situation a lot more anguishing for him.

It was just that everything had happened so quickly! One moment she was perfectly fine, working on Sheffield-Babcock's new play and the next one she had been completely out of it, suddenly not knowing who or where she was.

Dr Wilson had seemed understanding – he had tried to calm him down and had told him that sometimes it took the littlest of things to set someone off, even if it appeared that they were holding everything together just fine.

Her new doctor hadn't wanted to lose time chatting with him for long, though – actually he seemed to be in a hurry to start working, and given her state of mind Niles supposed it was for the better. The faster they took care of her, the faster she'd go back home. Niles had not been allowed to go inside the sanatorium, either. Wilson had said that as C.C. was extremely confused, goodbyes could upset her, so it was best for him to stay outside.

Niles hadn't complained, but he'd be lying if he said that that hadn't upset him. He had only wanted to say goodbye to her... to at least accompany her to her room and see that she was comfortable – he had heard numerous horror stories about this type of places; stories of patients being tortured and mistreated... he didn't want her to go through something like that, especially when she didn't know who she was, and when he felt this was his fault.

He heaved a sigh as he turned the engine on, and the car slowly came to life and began its way down the driveway. He gave one last glance at the hospital through his rear-view mirror and whispered. "I am so sorry, Miss Babcock."

Had Niles been closer to the entrance, he would have seen a beaming Gregory Wilson high-fiving his newest patient.

"Did you see the look on his face when I called him Grandmamma?" C.C. said in between chuckles. "I swear to God, Wilson, my only regret is that I won't be able to tease him about this after my treatment is over!"

Wilson, who had had to lean against a wall because he was laughing too hard and feared that his knees would give out, nodded and took a hold of her wheelchair. "The poor man was sick with worry! What did he say when you 'had your breakdown'?"

C.C. had to stifle another laugh. She had heard Niles mutter "Well, you finally went crackers" just before calling him Grandmamma, and she had feared she'd lose it then and there. Luckily, she had been able to keep it together and had carried out a flawless performance – even when they were in the car on their way to the clinic, Niles' reaction had made her fear she'd burst into a loud fit of laughter. He had given her worried glances every once in a while and he had repeated soothing phrases such as _"It will be okay, child"_ or _"Your Granny is taking you to a really nice place where you'll be taken care of"_.

"Oh, he said that I had finally gone crackers and then, just after I first called him Grandmamma, he was silent for a few seconds and said 'Yes, child'."

Patient and doctor exchanged a look before they began laughing again while they awaited for the elevator doors to open. C.C. had been given one of the best rooms in the hospital – it was located in the fifth floor, had a wonderful view of the East gardens and counted with both a walk-in closet and a bathroom equipped with an enormous bathtub, a shower and a vanity. She actually couldn't wait to see it in person, but she supposed she'd like it – after all, she had liked what she had seen so far.

What both surprised and pleased her the most, was the silence that seemed to reign in the hospital. It was as though no noise could reach it, giving the impression that the clinic was located in some kind of secret garden – hence the name, she supposed. C.C. was happy for that, too; she could use a break from the blearing city and her stressful routine.

Her musings were soon interrupted by the elevator doors opening with a loud 'ding'. She had barely noticed Wilson getting them into it in the first place. The doors revealed an ample hall that bifurcated into two long hallways – each hallway had a name of one of the rivers that the bible said flowed through the Garden of Eden, and C.C.'s room was located at the far end of Gihon hallway.

"Ready to meet your new room?" Wilson asked, stepping out of the elevator and heading for room number 55 – C.C.'s room.

"As I'll ever be."

The oncologist nodded and continued their way up to her room. He actually allowed her to get out of the wheelchair to open the door – she had to do the honours seeing as this would be her new 'home' for the next months.

The producer gasped in a breath when her eyes first drank in the beauty of her new accommodations; she had been to many hospitals in her life, but she had never seen such a beautiful and comfortable room before! It was about the same size of her living room and kitchen combined, and there were enormous panelled windows that made the room pleasantly luminous. It was also exquisitely furnished – her modern hospital bed was placed against the back wall, facing the door, and there was a bedside table on its left side. There was a small desk located against the left wall and by its side there was a comfortable-looking cushioned armchair – she supposed that she'd get most of her chemo sessions sitting there. The room also counted with a few sofas for visitors to use, a TV set and a stereo. The walls were painted in a soft beige colour and the air smelled of jasmines.

She truly couldn't complain… this place was wonderful, and she'd be extremely comfortable here.

"So, home sweet home," her doctor said, taking a seat on one of the sofas. "I must say, knowing the owner does have its perks. Speaking of that, when is your brother arriving here?"

C.C. had spent the few days before her admittance packing and deciding what she wanted to take with her to the hospital. It hadn't been an easy task, but she had eventually managed to finish her packing and Noel was to bring it to the clinic on the day of her admittance.

"I suppose he's on his way," the producer responded, walking around and getting the feel of her room.

"Well, then I'd better get down and give instructions for the nurses to bring up your luggage once your brother is here," Wilson said ad he rose to his feet and headed for the door. "I'll let you settle down now."

And with that, C.C. was left alone. She stood in the middle of her room for some minutes, just allowing her new reality to fully sink in. The actuality of the moment was hitting her right then – she now was a cancer patient, and this was going to be her home for the better part of the following year. She'd have to spend Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and her very own birthday there… she'd be away from her work, her friends and what had once been her life.

To say it was overwhelming almost felt like an understatement…

The producer gingerly walked to her bed and sat on it. It had an extremely comfortable and soft mattress, something that would probably be appreciated when her body had started to ache due to her treatment. She grabbed her purse – Niles had brought it with him and had given it to Wilson when they first arrived to the hospital – and began taking out the few things she had packed in it; she had her reading glasses, the novel she was reading ("Sophie's World") and her phone. It was not much, but she took a moment to settle the few items on her bedside table.

 _And what now?_

That was the question that kept going around in her head. What was she going to do for the rest of the day? She had nowhere to be or anything to do... was this how the following months were going to be like? Boring and quiet? She was dreading it already!

C.C. resolved to get into bed for the time being, so she got under the covers, grabbed the remote from her bedside table and began channel hopping. She wasn't interested in watching anything in particular, but the droning sound of the TV was somewhat comforting – it gave her the impression that she wasn't so alone. C.C. was already looking forward to his brother's arrival – Noel would surely know how to entertain her and put a stop to these unwelcome feelings of loneliness and boredom that were suddenly filtering into her heart. She'd have to get used to it, though, it wasn't like Noel could fly from Chicago to New York every day to spend some hours with her.

Not quite knowing the reason why, C.C.'s distracted mind couldn't help but to drift back to Niles. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, she couldn't help but to be surprised by the concern he had showed for her. She had believed that Niles would act as he usually did – he'd tease her and then get her some help. But this time there had been no teasing... this time the man had been absolutely worried about her.

Maybe she had been wrong about him... could Niles really care?

It was obvious that he did, a nagging voice in the back if her mind said. His every action told her so.

C.C. huffed in annoyance and shifted on her bed, trying to focus on the TV. She couldn't think about Niles now... not when she had more important things to worry about such as getting ready for the lymph node biopsy that would be performed on her in just a few hours. She couldn't think about the reasons why she was feeling strangely guilty for having tricked the butler like she had.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Chapter 4_**

 ** _I Saw Her Standing There_**

 _Beep. Beep. Beep._

C.C. groaned, stirring in her bed – it was 9:00 AM, time to start the day. Any moment from now Nurse Cameron would wheel in a cart carrying her breakfast tray, check her vitals and make small talk until C.C. had finished her breakfast and she could take her empty tray away and back to the kitchen. It was a situation that had become her routine for the last two weeks and, most probably, would be like that for the foreseeable future.

She didn't exactly dislike being at the hospital, but it was boring. The days were unchanging, monotonous, quiet… it was truly a tough change of pace for someone who was used to being up and about, running from one theatre to another while discussing business on the phone before she had even had breakfast. Wilson had told her that she was free to do as she pleased as long as she stayed on the premises, so C.C. had taken her time to visit the different facilities the clinic had to offer. She had first gone to the library, from where she had taken an enormous amount of books to her room; she liked the library, it was quiet, luminous and equipped with anything she might need.

She had also made a habit of strolling around the gardens – after all, it was just a matter of time before she was confined to her bed. At least that's what she supposed after receiving such horrible news yesterday…

Wilson had finally gotten the results of her tests, and he had taken a moment to come to her room after lunch to tell her exactly what type of cancer she had. As it turns out, she had stage 3B Mixed Cellularity Classical Hodgkin's Disease – an advanced type of Hodgkin's Lymphoma. She had three lymph node groups affected by cancer so Wilson had given her the crushing news that she'd need to go through 8 cycles of chemotherapy – aka, 8 months of chemicals being pumped into her body once a week – and then she'd need a bone marrow transplant. He had also told her that – even though it was an aggressive type of cancer – it had a good prognosis, the 5 year survival rate being around 75% and the 10 year rate being 80%.

It still didn't feel real, though… C.C. was kind of hoping this was all a bad dream from which she'd eventually wake up, but the more time it passed, the more she realised this was her new reality and that she'd have to get used to it. She was to start her chemotherapy that very same day after lunch, so the producer was truly not happy about having woken up. Part of her still wanted to refuse the treatment – from what she had been told the side effects were basically hell – but she kept reminding herself that that would be tantamount to a death sentence.

In short, she had to bite the proverbial bullet and be strong.

After all, the way she decided to face her treatment would impact on her new life, and she didn't want to spend the following eight months crying and pitying herself. She was a fighter, and she was determined to not let her illness steal her will to live, too. That's why she received her nurse with a forced smile when she came in with her breakfast; she didn't exactly feel okay, but Nurse Cameron always tried her best to cheer her up. What C.C. did ask for, however, was to eat breakfast alone, and after hesitating for a few seconds, the nurse calmly went away, promising to come back in a while to check on her.

But being alone soon proved to be the worst thing for C.C.. She felt sadness slowly enveloping her like bindweed, and suddenly the delicious pancakes before her seemed rather disgusting. Why eat, anyway? She'd soon be skin and bones even if she ate all the pancakes she could get her hands on…

The producer pushed her tray away and walked to the window – it had a fantastic view of the East gardens, and C.C. simply stood there, observing the beauty before her. It was kind of unfair – seeing life happening outside the clinic while hers was on a standstill. She was scared out of her mind of what was yet to come, and she couldn't help but to shed a few tears at the thought of what would happen to her that afternoon.

Had she not been so engrossed in her musings, she would have noticed Dr Wilson standing at the door, a sad look on his face. Miss Babcock was truly the strongest and most stubborn woman he had ever met, and it did pain him to see her try to keep a tight grip on her emotions when she was clearly struggling to cope. Most of his patients cried a lot during the first stage of their treatment, but this was the first time he had seen Miss Babcock do so.

Well, he'd be damned if he allowed her to suffer! As a matter of fact, an idea crept into his mind – maybe this was what she needed before starting treatment.

He walked into the room and towards his patient. The woman tried to wick away the few tears that were running down her cheeks when she noticed the presence of her oncologist, but Wilson didn't allow her to do so and simply enveloped her shoulders in a comforting hug.

"I'd say good morning to you, but somehow I believe you would not appreciate it," Wilson said.

"You really think so?" she replied with a sad smile.

"Yeah, I do really think so," he said, using the one arm around her shoulders to direct her towards the wheelchair they insisted she use to get around. They said it was more efficient, but C.C. suspected they were just trying to get her used to being in one. "But, there is something I think you will appreciate."

"What is it?" C.C. blinked at him, having to stop to pull her IV drip along on its stand so that it was caught up with them – seeing as she was getting her first chemo today, they were administering a cocktail of pre meds to get her body ready for the real chemo drugs. She clutched at it with her hand, so it stayed nearby as she sat in the chair. Wilson was obviously trying his hardest to keep her entertained, but the mystery he seemed to be implying was a little annoying.

"You'll see," Wilson pushed her into the corridor, towards the elevator. "We just have to go on a little adventure to get there."

"An adventure?" C.C. scoffed. "I'm not a child, you know."

"I never said that," Wilson pressed a button on the wall, and the doors to the elevator opened. He guided the chair inside, before stepping in himself. "Besides, adults can go on adventures, too."

Yeah, when they're well, C.C. thought to herself, watching the lights behind the elevator numbers glow briefly as they passed the floors. Eventually they came to the ground floor, the doors opened, and Wilson pushed her out into the corridor, taking a turning she hadn't gone down when she'd explored the place.

The corridor extended for some way, and just before they came to a corner turning, Wilson veered off, opening a door to what appeared to be a nice living room, furnished just as comfortably as any other in the hospital. Only this room had a rather large piano in it, as well as a stereo, and racks filled with CDs and shelves of sheet music.

"Welcome," Wilson announced. "To the music room."

C.C. gasped. How hadn't she been here before?! The music room was truly wonderful, and it had the biggest CD collection she had ever seen. The producer stood up and walked around the room, still absolutely amazed by the place her doctor had brought her too; she almost wasn't annoyed by having to push her IV stand around.

"It's… it's… fantastic!" she eventually said, her smile widening as she sat on the piano and her fingers rested on the polished keys.

"I knew you'd like it," Wilson walked to her, carrying a bunch of CDs in his hand. "But we are not here to play the piano – you can do that next time you come here."

Wilson took her hand in his and carefully removed her IV, so as to give her more freedom of movement. Then, without giving her an explanation of what exactly he had in mind, he turned for the stereo and put on one of the CDs. C.C. couldn't help but smile when the first notes filled the room – she knew that song! It was "You've Got To Hide Your Love Away" from The Beatles. She had danced so many times to that song… it simply made her smile.

"What are you up to, Wilson?"

Her doctor only smiled and offered her his hand. The blonde hesitated, but she eventually took it, and her oncologist spun her around, starting their dance. C.C. arched a questioning eyebrow – she supposed dancing to The Beatles wasn't exactly considered treatment for cancer, but part of her started to understand his plan. She had told him just how much she loved music, and her doctor had figured dancing and spending some time in the music room would cheer her up.

"I think, Babcock, that you ought to have a bit of fun before you start your chemo today, don't you agree?"

C.C. allowed her doctor to spin her again, and she laughed. Yes… she could have some fun before things turned ugly – besides, when was the last time she had danced? Well, there was that one time with Niles, but it wasn't the same.

"I happen to agree, Wilson, but let me tell you, you could have chosen a more uplifting song!" the producer pulled away from her doctor and browsed the CD collection until she found the one she was looking for. Wilson craned forward to see which one she had chosen, and scoffed.

"Elton John? Really?" the oncologist crossed his arms and sat down on the sofa by the piano. "I'd rather listen to The Beatles."

"Oh, give me a break, Wilson! This is what I used to dance to when I was a teenager!" C.C. pressed play and "Don't Go Breaking My Heart" began. She was grateful for Wilson having taken out her IV, it gave her a lot more room to move and dance. She remembered she would dance to this song in her room, playing pretend she was a big rock star – although she had stopped doing so when she was caught by her brother and consequently teased by him for a whole year.

"What are you two doing?" a sudden third voice said, and both doctor and patient turned to catch an amused Nurse Cameron stepping into the room. The nurse was maybe two or three years older than C.C., so she clearly must have danced to this song, too.

"What does it look like we are doing, Lisa?" Wilson said, standing from the couch and swaying his hips in a rather comical way. "We are dancing! Care to join us?"

The Nurse gave Gregory an unamused look that soon broke into a smile. "Oh, Wilson, you are unbelievable! Any excuse is valid to miss work for a while, eh?" she chastised but allowed Wilson to take her in his arms and started dancing as well.

C.C. couldn't help but laugh as the nurse joined in, dancing with her doctor. The producer had noticed that there was something about those two, possibly something not quite yet realised by either of them, but it was definitely there. She only hoped she'd be able to see more of it over the coming months.

God knows, she could use the entertainment.

Speaking of which, she was grateful that Wilson had brought her here. There was nothing quite like music to take her somewhere else – somewhere far away from cancer, and worrying about her job, her family, her friends...and certain people that she wouldn't describe as a friend but had been thinking far too much about for someone she claimed not to care for.

She couldn't believe the look on the butler's face through the glass doors and the car window that separated them as he left, fresh from dropping her off. He really had bought it, hook, line, and sinker. She'd almost been afraid that saying "Goodbye, Grandmamma" would be too much, and either she or Wilson would burst out laughing and ruin everything. But they'd held it together, and pulled it off.

And really, dancing seemed like as good a celebration of their good luck as any, while she could still move around.

"Are we having fun over there, Babcock?" Wilson called out, still dancing like someone's dad would at a wedding.

In truth, she really was. She didn't want it to end. The music finishing meant she'd be sooner to having to go back to her room, eating whatever lunch the nurses brought her whether she was hungry or not, and starting her chemotherapy.

The first of the eight rounds of treatment.

She immediately shook that thought out of her head. She couldn't think about that now! Not when she had the perfect opportunity to have some fun at her doctor's expense – he truly was a terrible dancer, but it was absolutely endearing to see Wilson dancing with her nurse.

"Of course, Wilson! Although I'd suggest you to take some dancing lessons," she retorted before releasing a loud laugh. Her joke elicited a chuckle from Nurse Cameron, too.

"Keep that up and you'll be sent back to your room!" Wilson grumbled.

"Oh, come on Wilson, don't be a spoilsport!" Cameron said, pulling away from him and turning to dance with C.C.. Both women knew the lyrics by heart, and were singing at the top of their lungs – they only hoped no one came to ask them to lower their voice.

" _Woo ooh_ nobody knows it," C.C. sang off-key while swaying her hips in time with the music.

"When I was down, I was your clown!" Cameron joined in, mirroring the producer's dance moves.

"My God, I can't stand this infernal caterwauling!" Wilson rolled his eyes and went to get another CD from the rack.

Both C.C. and Cameron only shrugged and kept singing in unison. "Right from the start I gave you my heart, _oh oh_ , I gave you my heart! Don't go breaking my heart."

"That's it! I am gonna put on some quality music," the oncologist exclaimed, pressing stop and putting on his choice of music. "And do my bleeding ears a favour – stop singing."

The moment the new song began, C.C. let out an excited yelp. My God, how she loved this song! It was "I Saw Her standing There" from The Beatles.

And speaking of seeing someone, C.C. and her nurse were so engrossed in swaying their bodies to the music that they didn't notice the gaping blue-eyed butler staring at them through the glassed doors.

Niles watched them dance for some time. He couldn't hear anything being said – the music was too loud for that – but he could hear the tone of The Beatles very clearly. And he couldn't help but watch the producer dancing, very obviously, with the help of one of the nurses.

Well, at least his fears about the hospital performing all sorts of horrid tests and unethical treatments on their patients seemed to be just a product of his overthinking and worrying imagination. C.C. seemed to be having a nice time. He'd been feeling guilty about having to leave her there ever since he'd dropped her off, so seeing her dancing and laughing like she was relieved him a little. Not entirely, for having helped to cause all of it in the first place, but enough, until she was better and he could properly start trying to make it up to her.

He wondered if she was feeling any better today, or at least more rested. She hadn't looked this happy in a while. Maybe all she needed was rest, and then she'd come back to hi- to the mansion. Back to work, and to real life, where she was needed.

It wasn't long before the same man as before – Dr Wilson, he believed – noticed his presence at the door.

* * *

Inside the room, Wilson froze, mid-dance move, eyes wide. Damn. Visiting hours must have started. He should have known Niles would be the first one through the doors, too. He seemed to care an awful lot for a man who Miss Babcock had once claimed to be her nemesis.

Come to think of it, she'd mentioned him quite a few times, considering she hated him.

He turned to the dancing women, "We have a guest – Babcock, pretend you're a teenager."

C.C.'s dancing slowed, and she blinked, "What?"

"Your butler friend is at the door!"

"Huh?" C.C. turned to look, but Wilson stopped her.

"Don't look, just keep dancing!" he hurried to put himself between C.C. and Niles' view of the door, still keeping the smile plastered to his face to prevent the butler from thinking anything was wrong.

He opened the door, but didn't allow the butler to come in, instead slipping outside to greet Niles in the more quiet corridor.

"Mr Brightmore! What are you doing here?" the oncologist asked, trying to keep his nonchalant façade in place.

"Well... I... I just wanted to see how she was doing," the butler tried to edge closer to the doors – the music had stopped, and he could now hear the two women inside murmuring something he couldn't quite understand.

"Oh, she is doing just fine! She just wanted to come and hear some music – she says she misses going out to parties."

Niles' face scrunched in confusion. Parties? What did he mean? The doctor seemed to understand his cluelessness and he simply gave him a gentle smile.

"She thinks she is sixteen years old. Hence her wanting to dance and go out to parties. That's part of the reason why she can't receive visitors yet. She won't remember you, and that could put unnecessary stress on her," Wilson explained slowly guiding him away from the door. He needed to get this man to leave as soon as possible – the longer he stayed, the greater was the risk of their whole ruse being discovered.

"Oh... and when will she-"

The butler trailed off, for the door was loudly opened by C.C.. She now had an IV connected to her hand, and although she looked the same, there was something odd about her... perhaps it was her posture? Or the fact that she was loudly chewing on a piece of gum, like most teenagers did? He didn't have much time to stare at her, though, for the woman turned to her doctor with a beaming smile.

"Hey, Wilson, I'll get going to the library, okay? I need to grab some books for Miss Parker's class – I don't want to get behind my studies while I am here!" she then turned to Niles and smiled at him, too. "Who's this?"

"Uh... he is a friend of mine," the doctor quickly replied. He was secretly impressed by his patient – she truly had talent as an actress.

"Oh, hi then," she reached out and shook the astonished butler's hand. "I am Chastity-Claire, but I prefer to go by C.C., it sounds more grown up. _Aaaanyway_ ," the blonde turned for the hallway and walked away, popping her gum. "I need to get those books before my therapy session after lunch. See ya later, doc."

She dashed off in the opposite direction as fast as her IV stand would allow her to, leaving a still-reeling Niles staring off in the direction she'd disappeared. Wilson looked back into the room, to see Nurse Cameron replacing the CDs back on the shelf.

"Leave those, Cameron," he waved a hand in the direction of the music pile. "Go with our patient and see that she gets everything she needs, okay?"

"Of course, Dr Wilson," the nurse smiled, and stepped out into the corridor. She looked around, frowning, her brow furrowed slightly. "Which way did she go?"

Niles pointed, "She went that way. She said something about getting books at the library."

Nurse Cameron nodded in understanding, "Ah, okay. I'll probably catch up with her before she gets there. It was nice to meet you, Mr...?"

"Brightmore. Niles Brightmore," the butler said. "A concerned friend of Miss Babcock's...a very concerned friend."

The nurse smiled and nodded, "I see. Well, it's nice that she had a visitor, even if you weren't able to see her for that long. I'm sure the more she remembers herself, the more she'll be able to talk with you. But for now you must excuse me; I must go catch up with her before she gets into any mischief."

Without another word, she began a brisk pace down the corridor in the direction C.C. had left. Niles sighed audibly. He had no idea if Miss Babcock's sudden burst in age, going from being a child to a teenager, was a bad thing or not. Would it simply take her time to remember her real age, and she'd be better again, or would she go back and forth, getting older and younger until she got better? Would she get better again, or would she stay where she was?

A perpetual teenager, not able to remember anything from the last twenty years of her life – not her work, her friends...not even him...

He shook that part out of his head as he turned towards the doctor. If anyone could answer his question, it would be Wilson.

"Do you think she will remember?"

Wilson almost felt sorry for the man. He was clearly concerned, and from what C.C. had told him, Wilson was sure Niles felt rather guilty for what had happened to her. It was curious, really. These two had a peculiar relationship, to say the least, and he wondered if there was more than impassioned declarations of hate and pranks between them.

"In her own time, she will. Just don't expect this to happen overnight – getting over this condition takes time," the doctor said, beginning his own way down the corridor. He had to get Niles out of the hospital as soon as possible.

"How long will it take?" Niles was almost afraid of the answer, but he had to know... he had to know for how much time he'd have to face a _Babcockless_ existence.

Wilson sighed, almost resignedly. "I don't know. We'll see how she reacts to treatment, okay? Just don't come again until we tell you otherwise."

Niles felt like he had been slapped. He had played an important part to get her in the position she was in and now he wasn't even allowed to visit her? It wasn't fair...

But he was being selfish. Miss Babcock's mental health came first, and if being away was what would help her heal, then he'd stay away.

"Alright," he said, trying not to sound too deflated. "I'll get going then. I am sure you have other patients that require your attention, too."

Wilson smiled at the man and accompanied him to the entrance. "Don't worry. She'll be right as rain soon enough."

Niles nodded and tried to smile. He hoped her doctor was right... he didn't want to imagine life without his Babcock.

* * *

"You were absolutely brilliant!" Wilson said, bursting into C.C.'s room.

The producer was already settled on her comfy armchair, just by the window. Nurse Cameron had said she could choose where to get her treatment – in her bed, in the library, in the music room... but C.C. had preferred the privacy of her room and the comforts of a cushioned armchair. She wasn't in the mood to get in bed just yet, hence her preferring the armchair – it was big, comfy and she figured spending six hours there wouldn't be so bad. She had also sat the TV remote on a little table by her chair and had grabbed a few books to keep herself entertained while receiving her chemo – it couldn't be that bad, now could it?

"What can I say?" the producer shrugged, waiting for Wilson to start the dripping. "I took drama classes when I was at school."

"Well, it's obviously paid off," the doctor said, giving the IV – which was already connected to her arm – a quick tap to get the liquid flowing. "I'm surprised you stuck to being the woman behind it all, instead of treading the boards yourself."

C.C. shook her head softly, "I couldn't do that. I like telling people what to do and how to do it too much."

"I had noticed," Wilson smirked at her, delighting in her unamused expression.

A few seconds passed in silence, before C.C. spoke up again, finding the courage to ask about something which had been playing on her mind for a little while.

"...Speaking of telling people what to do, did the butler say why he'd come back?"

Wilson gave her a thoughtful glance, before seating himself in the other available chair. There she was, mentioning the butler again. He had to be the person she'd talked most about since coming here, Wilson was willing to bet on that, and Niles had referred to himself as a "concerned friend" to Lisa...

Wilson checked his watch. They had a little time before the drugs made effect, so they might as well pass it in some fashion. Talking was as good a pastime as any, and he was rather curious about the two blondes...

"He was concerned. He wanted to see how you were doing," the doctor answered.

It would be interesting to see how the woman reacted to that. It might help him make up his mind as to whether or not he actually believed the two didn't get along, or were just trying to hide the fact that they cared more deeply about each other than either was willing to admit.

C.C. nodded and stared down at the floor. She was starting to wonder if she had made the right thing when she had decided to stage a mental breakdown in front of Niles. She had believed no one would care or come to visit, but ironically enough, the person who was supposed to care the less, was the one who cared the most.

C.C. now felt more than a little guilty – the butler had looked positively destroyed, both when he had left her there and back in the hallway.

But she couldn't tell him. She couldn't tell anyone about this... if Niles ever discovered she had cancer only two things could happen: he'd be furious with her for having tricked him into believing she had had a mental breakdown; or he'd pity her, like most people would do.

No… she was better off alone. Besides, this was not his burden, it was hers, and she had to be strong enough to carry it on her own.

"Oh... well, I suppose he misses teasing me – after all, he did define me as his home entertainment centre," the producer tried to laugh, but she didn't had the strength to do so. Thinking about Niles was making feel oddly depressed. "I suppose I miss teasing him, too…"

Wilson could tell this, too. He glanced at his clock again – the medication would start making effect any moment from now. She'd start getting sleepy, and seeing as the studies had shown she was allergic to anti-nausea medication, she might be ill, too.

But what she had just said gave the doctor the answer he was looking for. These two didn't hate each other – far from it, in fact. He was fairly sure they simply pretended to hate each other but that deep down they cared more than they were willing to admit. He could see the guilt in her eyes, the guilt for having tricked him and making him suffer...

Maybe what they needed was time – time and a little push. He wasn't going to jeopardise their ruse yet, but Wilson made a mental note to start suggesting her that maybe she needed someone else by her side that just her brother. He knew that, when she'd started to feel the side effects, her emotional state would worsen and she'd probably give in and tell her friends and family about her illness. He'd have to wait and see…

"Is it normal for me to feel sleepy?" she asked, the drowsiness in her tone denoting the drugs were making effect.

"Yes, it is," Wilson told her, rising from his seat. "Would you like me to help you get settled on your bed? It'll be more comfortable, especially when you wake up."

"No, I'm good here..." C.C. yawned, and rolled her shoulders, getting more settled in her seat. She'd be in bed for a lot of chemo soon enough, anyway. She might as well make the most of what freedom of movement she could get. And she'd probably want to sit up when the nurses woke her up and brought her dinner, anyway. This would make things easier if she was still drowsy coming out of it.

"Alright, then," the doctor walked over to the corner of her room, picked up a bin, and settled it down by her feet. "This'll be here just in case you need to vomit, okay? It sucks to have allergies, especially to stuff which stops you from throwing up," he then grabbed a large, pink blanket that was laying at the foot of her bed and covered the producer with it.

"Thanks," C.C. mumbled, now barely awake. Her eyes were drifting shut, and she was curled up tight, nestled into the fabric of the chair.

"Not a problem," Wilson smiled softly at her, checked the whole room over, including charts, to make sure everything was in order for when C.C. woke up, and peeled off his gloves to put them in the disposal bin before leaving her to rest, and the chemicals to start the process of treating her. He shut the door behind him, leaving her in peace.

The walk up to his office was uneventful – the hospital was oddly quiet for visiting hours, but that was only a good thing for Wilson. It meant his patients, particularly the ones who were further along in their illnesses, got more time to rest. It also meant patients like Miss Babcock, who had few visitors, might not feel quite so left out when it came time for loved ones to come over and extend their best wishes.

Not that he'd ever had a patient who wanted very few visitors before. C.C. was the first, he'd have to say. But he would have to wait to try to change that. He needed her to come to the decision that she needed other people herself. Her brother would come, he knew that, and he'd allow Niles back eventually, but she'd need more friends and loved ones surrounding her than just her brother and… whatever the butler really was for her, because he sure as hell wasn't her enemy.

But he'd be a good place to start, anyway. When the time was right.


	5. Chapter 5

**_Chapter 5_**

 ** _Christmas Surprises_**

 _3 months, 5 days and three hours_.

That was the time that had gone past since she had arrived to the hospital.

Her life in the clinic had turned incredibly monotonous – it was constant, unchanging…

Of course, the same couldn't be said about her physical appearance.

In just some months, C.C. had turned from a healthy, strong woman, into nothing but skin and bones. The change in her appearance had been gradual but constant. The first thing that she had noticed was a dramatic weight loss – she had arrived to the hospital weighting 130 pounds, and her current weight was 94 pounds. She was obviously extremely underweight, but that was to be expected when her treatment caused her to be sick most of the time and when she was allergic to anti-nausea medication, too; she usually considered herself lucky if she was able to keep her dinner in her stomach after a chemotherapy session.

The next side effects she had noticed, were the loss of appetite and the gradual loss of the sense of taste. Most aliments tasted dull, as though they had no flavour – something that had only worsened her weight problem. She couldn't and didn't want to eat, so there had been many times when Nurse Cameron and even Dr Wilson had had to force her to eat. She simply couldn't afford to lose any more weight.

Then there was the constant fatigue. Most of the days C.C. simply didn't have the energy to get out of bed. Wilson had told her this was a common side effect of chemotherapy, and most patients suffered from it, but by God did she hate it…

There were times when simply shifting in bed represented a gargantuan effort, so the blonde had taken to spending her days lying down, just reading a book or watching TV. Sometimes, when she was feeling well enough, she'd ask Nurse Cameron to help her to her wheelchair and take her to the music room, where she'd spend the day listening to her favourite tunes or playing the piano. And speaking of pianos, Wilson had allowed her to have a small piano brought into her room after she became too weak to visit the music room as often as she would have liked. She was truly thankful for her wonderful doctor – the man made everything in his power to make her feel comfortable.

Last but not least, had come the hair loss. That was the side effect she resented the most… she remembered waking up one morning and going to the bathroom to comb her hair, but as soon as her brush had touched them, her blonde locks had fallen from her head, dead and straw-like. C.C. remembered she had felt a strong urge to cry, but she had refused to allow her illness to break her… no, she wasn't about to lose control. Not now.

Instead of crying and wallowing in self-pity, C.C. had simply called Nurse Cameron to her room and had asked her to shave her head. She had figured that it would be far better than seeing her hair fall down little by little – not to mention that she kind of wanted to use the many pretty bandanas Noel had bought for her. Luckily and by some miracle of destiny, the hair from eyebrows hadn't fallen down, but apart from that, she was completely hairless.

All these changes were the reason why she avoided looking at herself in the mirror. It was hard to see what both her illness and the treatment had done to her...

But it had to be done, she constantly reminded herself. It had to be done if she wanted to survive. Her latest tests were showing that the cancer was slowly receding, so the pain was proving to be worth it. And speaking of pain, the chemotherapy had brought along a nasty little friend called neuropathy. Basically, neuropathy was pain in the nerves, and she suffered from it after every chemo session – usually it would start as a tingling in her feet, but it would quickly spread up her legs and arms until it became a sharp, burning pain that made her whole body ache. It also left her needing to be in bed for days at a time.

Painkillers and hot baths often helped, but there was a sense of hopelessness that not even the strongest medication could vanish.

She felt awfully alone, that was the sad truth, but she was still reluctant to allow anyone know about her condition. She didn't even want to imagine the horrified stares she'd get if the Sheffields or Niles saw her like this…

 _Niles_ … he was probably the person she missed the most. He hadn't come to visit her again, but she was to blame there, really. She had sent her resignation letter a month and a half after being admitted to the hospital; C.C. had said that she was feeling better but that she still needed time to recover from her mental breakdown and that she didn't want them to visit her until she had said otherwise.

It was ironic, she was depressed and lonely, but she was stubborn enough to ignore Wilson's advice to open up and purposely pushed people away. She sometimes wished she knew what the right thing to do was… there was a part of her that longed to see Niles and reconnect with the Sheffields, but she was so very afraid… afraid of their reaction, afraid of them pitying her, afraid of them being angry with her for having staged a mental breakdown instead of just telling them the truth…

C.C. knew that fear was what was keeping her from reaching out to them.

She wanted to believe they were better off without her anyway – her parents had their lives to attend to and didn't need the extra worry of a sick child, Maxwell and Nanny Fine had just gotten married in a splendid ceremony and Niles… well… Niles… uh… he was probably happy about her not being around anymore. Or, at least, he had gotten used to not having her around and had already found another hobby to occupy his time with.

She had never been an important part of anyone's life, so why would anyone care about her now? Of course that, if any of them knew about her cancer, they'd be politely concerned, which was something C.C. knew she'd resent – she'd rather be alone than pitied.

But she wasn't supposed to be thinking about that right then. She was about to go on, as Wilson had insisted on calling it, an adventure. It had all started a few weeks ago when her doctor noticed a growing sadness in her eyes – the holiday season had started, and C.C. (although she hadn't said it aloud) was feeling rather depressed about having to spend it in a hospital. Nurse Cameron and Wilson had actually decorated her room and set up a Christmas tree in it, all in an attempt to cheer her up. Although it had made her feel a bit better, it hadn't been nearly enough. Wilson had also stayed with her on Thanksgiving, and he had promised that both Cameron and he would celebrate Christmas with her, too.

But the surprises hadn't ended there… last week Wilson had told her that he intended them to have a proper Christmas, hence the need to go out and do some gift shopping. It had taken a few seconds for C.C. to understand exactly what he had in mind, but once she did, she had been absolutely delighted with his idea. She was going to have a day out! She was going to go back to the city after being in the clinic for almost four months! Technically, patients weren't allowed to leave the premises whenever they wanted, but Wilson wasn't exactly known to be a doctor who followed the rules.

And so there she was… sitting on her wheelchair while anxiously awaiting for her oncologist to come and get her. Nurse Cameron was going to accompany them, too, so as to make sure nothing went wrong. Cameron had helped her choose an appropriate outfit for her day out, and after much thinking, C.C. had ended up deciding to use an elegant, black, Chanel suit, a white bandana and her finest scarf and gloves. She was looking good, and actually wearing something else apart from her pyjamas or sweatpants and oversized t-shirts was a nice change.

"Are we ready to go?" Wilson asked, breezing into her room.

"More than ready," C.C. straightened out her coat, which Nurse Cameron had insisted that she wear over the top of her suit for extra warmth. The producer had protested at first, feeling more than a little restricted, but the nurse hadn't given in, claiming it was cold out and with her loss of weight, she'd feel it more than ever. C.C. had surrendered and begrudgingly allowed the other woman to help her into her coat after that, thinking that if she put up too much of a fight, both doctor and nurse might decide that she wasn't ready to take a trip out after all, and she needed this day outside the hospital like she needed air.

"Well, it sounds like someone's eager," Wilson teased. "What's so great about outside, anyway? It's mostly full of stupid people, isn't it?"

C.C. folded her hands in her lap, "Yes, and one of them managed to get in here and become a doctor. I'm not going out for other people, I'm going for me, so let's get moving already!"

Wilson raised his hands mock-defensively at C.C., "Alright, alright! We'll be on our way, soon enough."

He turned to Nurse Cameron, and began discussing their plan of action for the day. They'd do the shopping part first, because it would give C.C. enough time to have a proper day out in the city if they went to several different stores and took their time in each, then they'd find somewhere to have lunch, and get back about mid-afternoon.

C.C. rapped her fingers against the arm of her wheelchair. She'd been ready to go since forever, couldn't they discuss all of this in the cab on the way?

"Alright, alright," Wilson said moving to the back of her chair and finally rolling it out of the room. "You truly are the most impatient person I've ever met!"

"Patience is merely an eight word letter that begins with P and finishes with an E," the producer replied, more than happy that they were finally on their way out. This was going to be the first Christmas that she would spend without the Sheffields, and it felt more than slightly odd. Well, there had been that one time when she had spent with Niles; it was the time when they had casually bumped into each other in Hawaii three years ago. It had been a fun Christmas – Niles had invited her to dance and they had given each other simple but meaningful gifts.

The thought of his lopsided grin when he discovered she had actually bought him a present was enough to make her smile… They had never talked about it again, but it was a memory that they both treasured.

When they finally got out of the hospital, C.C. was thankful that Cameron had insisted on her using that coat – the weather was beyond freezing! Much to her surprise, they didn't take a cab; instead, Wilson wheeled her to his car, helped her into it and – after Cameron had made sure she was comfortable – they began their way to the city. They stopped to have breakfast halfway to the city, and for the first time in months C.C. was able to finish her meal without feeling queasy – honestly, she was too in a good mood not to do so.

Soon, they were enveloped by a sea of colourful lights and people. The sound of the bustling city was almost like music to C.C.'s ears, and she was practically bouncing on her seat when the car finally came to a halt. They had decided to go to Times Square first – C.C. wanted to see if Sheffield Productions had put up a new play. Then, they'd go to Fifth Avenue to do their Christmas shopping.

Much to C.C.'s delight, it was snowing. She had always said there was nothing like New York in winter… her breath rose in small puffs to the sky as Wilson pushed her around the city, and a warm sense of peace nestled in her heart when they got to Times Square and she discovered that, even though she had resigned, the company was still called "Sheffield-Babcock Productions". Maxwell had put up a play called "Yetta's Letters", and C.C. could help but chuckle at the thought of a play based on the life of none other than Grandma Yetta!

Getting to their next stop took them a while – the traffic was terrible, as usual – but they were able to find an excellent parking space. Wilson was the first to get out of the car and, while Nurse Cameron helped C.C. out of the car, he took her wheelchair out of the trunk and unfolded it for C.C. to be able to sit.

"Take it easy, Miss Babcock," Nurse Cameron said, supporting her weight so that C.C. didn't slip while walking to the wheelchair – the sidewalk was slippery due to the snow, and the last thing they wanted was the day to be spoiled by a nasty fall. "We have a long day ahead of us and we wouldn't want you to get exhausted when it has just began!"

C.C. doubted she'd get tired of this...it didn't matter that she needed to be sat on a wheelchair or that she needed two people to help her move around – the only thing that mattered was how utterly alive she felt. C.C. had never taken the time to appreciate life but, in a horribly cliché way, being sick with cancer was teaching her exactly how precious life was. She was more willing to enjoy from the little things such as reading a book or having a nice day out with her doctor and nurse – in a sense, now the little things were what made her feel alive.

If she was being honest, it had been a while since she had felt this good and content… the feeling of warmth in her chest kind of reminded her of how she felt like whenever she bantered with Niles. She tried not to think much about him or about how much she missed hi- their little battle of wits. Her heart always gave a painful throb whenever she allowed his memory to creep into her thoughts.

But still… she sometimes couldn't help but wonder how he was doing.

Little did she know that there was a man a few feet away, sat on a limousine and staring at her in bewilderment, as though his eyes couldn't actually believe what they were seeing. Niles could hear his heart thumping wildly against his chest, like a hammer against cloth. There, a few feet away from him, he recognised both Dr Wilson and Nurse Cameron – Miss Babcock's doctor and nurse at the sanatorium.

But who was that third person with them? The distance and the fact she had her back turned to him made it difficult for him to discover who she was. It was a woman, that much he could tell, but she was horrendously sick; he could tell so because she had no hair and could barely walk without help. He had seen her being helped out of a car by the nurse and part of him feared that her obviously frail body would break if one so much as looked at it the wrong way. But the worst part wasn't her painfully obvious fragility… no, the worst part about the sight before him was the dark feeling that was slowly enveloping his heart –a dark feeling that he knew exactly who that woman was.

But it couldn't be her… It wasn't possible.

Miss Babcock was sick, but she wasn't _that_ sick.

He was imagining things – no doubt as a result of not having seen the producer in so long. She – her condition, he meant – was playing on his mind, and not being able to go to the hospital to see how she was, simply made his eyes play tricks on him, that was all. He was still feeling guilty, too, and seeing Wilson and Cameron out with someone else – someone who was a lot sicker than Miss Babcock was, like some of the patients in the hospital obviously would be – was clearly bringing that to the forefront of his mind, allowing it to do all sorts of things to him.

He wasn't going to allow it to take him over. If he'd mentioned this to anyone else, they would have accused him of being obsessed, which he wasn't, and would have said so if anyone had asked.

But still...that woman did look so familiar, from the glimpses he got before Wilson turned the chair completely away from him.

He rolled down the window of the limousine. Maybe if he heard them speak, he'd be able to catch a name, and put his mind at rest...

 _"Come on, Wilson, we're burning daylight, here!"_

He gasped in a breath as his ears perked up at the sound.

That voice...surely he'd know that voice anywhere...?

It couldn't be, really, though...could it?

With a muttered complaint that the butler didn't quite catch, Wilson began to push the chair into the crowd, Nurse Cameron following close behind. By the time Niles had gotten the door unlocked and opened – damning the safety locks that Mr Sheffield had insisted on having installed in the limo as he went – the three had disappeared into a sea of people. His eyes scanned the crowds to no avail – they could have gone anywhere; into any store or restaurant, down any side street, they could be simply swallowed up with the rest of the population right there on that day.

He sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. He'd been so close to finding out.

It was probably just another, sicker patient having a day out and getting a little irritable, he told himself. Someone his mind had made up to look a little bit like Miss Babcock because...well, because he was missing her so much, and whose annoyance at being herded about reminded him of the producer.

Yes. That's probably all it was. And if he'd caught up with them, he would have only embarrassed himself for chasing after them when the woman in the wheelchair wasn't who he hoped it was. He needed to see her again, but chasing after strangers in wheelchairs wasn't the right way to go about it.

Huffing out a breath, he got back into the driver's seat of the limo, slamming the door shut a little too hard, and returning to waiting for Fran to finish her shopping.


	6. Chapter 6

**_Chapter 6_**

 ** _An Unexpected Visitor_**

Christmas came and went, and soon December had given way to January. New York now resembled a winter wonderland with the crisp, white snow covering the city and the naked trees lining the avenues. It had been a particularly sunny winter, but to Niles it made no difference… ever since C.C. had gone away to the sanatorium and consequently resigned, his life had become rather empty. There was a part of him that simply couldn't go on without her, and knowing that – even if she got better – she wasn't coming back, was the reason behind the hollowness in his chest.

Visiting her at the hospital had been impossible at first, but then – just when he had hoped he might be able to see her again – she had sent her resignation letter with an explicit command of them not visiting her for the time being. He just couldn't understand why! Surely she wasn't mad at him, was she? She had only said she needed time to recover, but four months had gone by and there weren't any news from her. He had called Noel on many an occasion to check on C.C.'s progress, but the professor was reluctant to tell him anything about her treatment.

It was hard... letting time go past and not being able to see her. But everything had gotten incredibly worse after that day in the city. His mind hadn't been able to rest – that woman looked and sounded so much like C.C…. but she was too sick to be her! As far as he knew, C.C. had suffered a mental breakdown, she wasn't sick with some terminal disease like that woman in the wheelchair.

He had tried to put those upsetting thoughts to rest, but to no avail. They resurfaced almost every day, making him feel like he was trapped in a room that was progressively devoid of oxygen.

The Sheffields had noticed his sullen behaviour, but had chosen to say nothing about it – they knew what was troubling him, and they didn't want to pressure him into talking about something which they knew pained him.

Not even Max and Fran's wedding had been enough to lift his spirits – that night he had only been able to think about C.C., and about how much he missed her. Granted, Maxwell and Fran getting lost in an island had been a momentary distraction, but now a days his thoughts only revolved around the blonde woman.

As a matter of fact, Niles was thinking about her while he went to get the mail. He absentmindedly browsed through the many letters that had just arrived to the mansion – most of them were addressed to Maxwell, but he always checked if there was something for him. Part of him wished that one day he'd get a letter from her, telling him that she wanted to see him again. Of course he knew it was just a stupid fantasy, that it would never happen, but a man could dream…

Just when he was about to take the post to the office, Niles noticed a strange envelope at the end of the pile of letters. He almost gasped when he realised it was a letter from C.C.'s hospital; had she finally decided to see them? Niles turned dropped the rest of the mail over the side table and examined the letter in his hands. It didn't take long for him to realise that that letter wasn't meant to any of the inhabitants of the mansion – it was a letter directed to Noel Babcock.

He supposed it had been mistakenly posted to the mansion, and that the right thing to do was simply sending it to Noel, its true recipient… but could he really waste this opportunity to see how C.C. was doing? Could he, really? The Babcocks had maintained an almost unbelievable secretiveness about how C.C. was progressing, so maybe this was the only chance he'd get to discover if the producer was truly going back to her old self or if she still needed treatment.

It was decided then…

Niles carefully opened the envelope – he could simply seal it again and then mail it to Noel once he had read it – and retrieved a piece of paper from its insides. It contained a handwritten letter, so he went back to the kitchen for his reading glasses, took a shuddering breath and began to read.

Needless to say, the butler felt his breath catching in his throat when his eyes scanned the few lines written in it:

 _"Mister Babcock,_

 _The results from the lasts tests are showing your sister is responding well to chemotherapy – her cancer is slowly receding. Given that she's halfway through her treatment, it's imperative to start looking for a bone marrow donor. However, she still has a long way to go – the type of cancer she has is extremely aggressive, so we need to act quickly._

 _On the downside, she is in a lot of pain and her low weight is still a matter for concern._

 _Apart from that, her spirits are high. Our little day out last Christmas Eve was exactly what she'd been needing._

 _I hope to see you soon._

 _Doctor Gregory Wilson, oncologist."_

Niles felt like his legs were going to give out underneath him, and he staggered to the kitchen counter, clutching at the surface for support. He couldn't believe what his eyes were seeing – he refused to. He opened and closed the letter several times, as though hoping that somehow, something would be different when he read the letter the next time.

No such luck; the words were there, and they were staying. It wasn't a sanatorium he'd taken her to. It was a specialist hospital dealing in the treatment of life threatening diseases, and clearly her doctor had been in on C.C.'s plan to keep them all in the dark.

She had cancer...all this time, she'd been suffering from cancer...

That meant it had been her, that day out in New York, when he'd kept telling himself over and over that it couldn't possibly be her because she wasn't that sick, despite evidence which could point to the fact that maybe it was her. Niles wanted to kick himself. C.C. had been that sick – was still that sick, by the sound of things – and he'd recognised her but not chased after her.

He could have found out about this a whole lot sooner if he had! And he wouldn't have had to do it by illegally opening someone else's accidentally posted mail, either. He would have found out that she'd been lying to him – to everyone – for all this time.

He could have asked her why she hadn't told anyone – why she clearly wanted to go through this with as little help as possible. Well, part of the answer was obvious in that it was Miss Babcock, but she had allowed her brother to help, so why not her friends, too? Did she not trust them enough?

It pained him to think that she'd been going through this all by herself for so long without a word in the direction of the mansion, but it pained him even more to think that he'd gone for so long without knowing the truth, and that she'd looked him in the face, told him a lie and left him to worry for however long it would take for her to get better.

If she ever did, which was very much an unwanted thought in his head that he didn't allow to stay for long, due to how unwelcome it was.

There was only one call for it. He had to get back to the hospital, and properly talk with Miss Babcock. Demand answers, as best as she could give them in her current state, and get the details filled in from Dr Wilson.

Now that he knew the truth, they couldn't keep him out of that place if they tried.

He took some moments to regain his breath. The revelation on that letter had knocked him for six, and if he was to drive to that hospital he needed to be a little more calmed. Niles folded the letter and tucked it inside his jacket pocket – if C.C. asked how he had discovered about what was truly happening to her he'd simply show her the letter. She might get angry at him for opening her brother's letter, but honestly, that's the last thing he cared about.

For all he knew she could be dying! Now it all made sense: her strange mood that morning four months ago, the phone call with Noel, her smashing the window and refusing to go to the hospital...

It was a lot to take in at once, but he had to be brave. Miss Babcock, however wrong her actions had been, was being brave right then, and if he wanted to convince her to allow him to be there for her he had to show bravery, too.

He decided not to tell the Sheffields about what he had just found out, so he simply left a handwritten note saying he had had a personal emergency and that he'd be back in some hours, and left through the back door.

The road to the hospital was the most anguishing 45 minutes of his life. He couldn't stop thinking about her appearance back when he had seen her that day in the city – he had only seen her from afar, so how would she look in person? He already knew she had no hair and that she was extremely underweight, but what else would he see?

Would her eyes give away just how tired and in pain she was? Would her voice break when she talked about her condition?

Would she cry?

He shook that thought out of his head while he pulled up the driveway and looked for a space to park the car. He supposed visiting hours had already started, and if that wasn't the case then he'd simply wait until they did.

He almost didn't know how his legs carried him all the way to the front desk, where she spoke with a nice receptionist who gave him the number of her room. It was in the fifth floor – room number 55. The woman had also told him that the producer was in the middle of a chemotherapy session, so she might not be awake when he got to her room.

He had had to swallow a lump in his throat when the receptionist said so.

He had to admit the hospital was beautiful. It had everything its patients could need, but he doubted that C.C. could make use of its facilities when she was so weak...

The walk to her room felt almost eternal, but he eventually managed to get there. He stood there, before her door and pricked his ears – the only noises coming from inside were the faint beeping of her heart monitor, and every so often he would hear the page of a book being turned.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door and after a weak " _Come in!"_ came from the other side, he pushed it open.

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. She'd obviously had it shut for privacy, and what was about to come when she looked up from her book and saw that he was there would require it, if they weren't to disturb the other patients and their visitors.

Disturb other people, cause World War Three… who knew? The producer's reaction could vary wildly, and it was putting him a little more on edge than he liked, especially considering he'd come to try and demand answers and needed to present a strong front if he was to do that. He couldn't lose face in front of her, otherwise his quest for answers would come to a halt right then and there, and he'd be removed from the hospital and never know.

Seeing her up close, it was suddenly understandable why he hadn't completely recognised her from a distance; first of all, all her hair had been shaved off, and she wore a light blue bandana to cover her head. Secondly, she had clearly dropped at least half, if not more, of her body weight, and thirdly, she looked paler than the moon.

She was definitely the woman he'd seen that day in the city, and she was definitely as sick as she had been then.

The producer still didn't look up at him. Instead, she turned a page of her book, eyes scanning along the page, "Aren't you gonna say anything, Wilson? You usually have some smart comment to make."

"So I'm not the only one who realises all the fun that can be had at your expense," Niles shot back, causing C.C. to start and drop her book.

She couldn't scramble to sit up, but she pulled herself up as quickly as she could to stare at him, a range of emotions crossing her eyes – confusion, rage, surprise, fear...and something that he would have said looked very much like relief or joy, if it weren't for the fact that it was Miss Babcock looking at him. No, it was probably a misreading of emotions on his part, where she was going through so many at once.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she clearly wanted to demand, and would have done, had her voice been stronger.

"Oh, you recognise me, do you?" Niles quirked an eyebrow, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "This hospital really does work wonders, I must say. It's a pity they can't get their postage right, then, isn't it?"

He took the letter from his pocket and tossed it down onto her lap. C.C. picked it up and began to read, her mouth falling open.

" _Shit_ " that was the only word that came to her mind right then. How on Earth had that letter been mistakenly posted to the mansion?! And why did it have to be so specific about her condition?! There was no sense in lying to him now – both because the letter had already told him everything he needed to know about what she had, and also because her appearance was a dead giveaway of how sick she was.

The producer supposed that he'd want to ask more questions about her condition, too – most people would, after all. C.C. could also tell he was livid, and it didn't surprise her, either – she kind of expected it, to be honest. After all, Niles was a smart man, and he surely hadn't appreciated having been lied to like he had; they might have been enemies, but secrets between them were rare, and hers was the biggest and gravest secret that had ever existed between them.

The producer leaned back against the back of her armchair and heaved a sigh, gearing herself up for the difficult conversation that they were about to engage in. She wouldn't have minded to have this discussion any other day, or rather, any other moment when she wasn't in the middle of a chemotherapy session. But she had no other option but to tell him why she had done what she did right then... C.C. knew he wasn't going to leave without answers.

That was just her luck...

Her gaze travelled back to the butler – he was standing by the door, arms folded across his front and had a deep scowl plastered to his face. She had never seen him looking so angry before, but behind the rage she sensed there was something else... she didn't dare to say it aloud, but she could clearly see concern written in his eyes and, perhaps, pain, too. Much to her relief, she didn't detect even the faintest trace of pity in his features; it was surprising just how much peace of mind that gave her.

"Well, you better sit down for this conversation; it's probably going to take a while," the producer said, gesturing at the chair next to her own.

Niles hesitated. There was a big part of him that, even though it was furious with Miss Babcock, simply couldn't bear to see her so sick. He feared that, if he got closer to her, he'd give in to the almost desperate urge to take her in his arms and whisper that everything was going to be alright and that he was going to take care of her. He wanted to be there for her, he wanted her to let him in, and the only way to do so was by having this conversation – so could he really refuse to sit down next to her?

It was obvious that he couldn't...

The butler crossed the room in a few strides and picked up the fallen book before taking a seat. He couldn't help but notice just how tired she looked... how utterly sick she was. The sight of chemicals going down an IV line and into her veins made him feel like he had been punched in the stomach, too, so he made a mental promise to try and contain his rage the best he could – she was clearly not up for any type of excitement right then, so he had to take care.

"Before we discuss why I did what I did, I will come clean about what I have," she shifted in her armchair to face him. "I am suffering from a type of blood cancer called "Mixed Cellularity Classical Hodgkin's Disease" and it's stage 3, which means it's in an advanced stage. It is also an aggressive type of cancer, and it has affected three lymph node groups in my body. Although the prognosis is good – the 5 year survival rate is 75% – I still have to receive chemotherapy for another four months and then I'll have to have a bone marrow transplant," C.C. fiddled with the edge of the pink blanket that was covering her lower body and casted her eyes away from Niles. "It's bad... but I'll get better – at least that's what Wilson says."

Niles wasn't quite sure what to say to that. He felt even worse for wanting to yell before, that much was certain.

A seventy-five percent survival rate for the next five years.

But what about the other twenty-five percent? That was three quarters saying she'd pull through, and one quarter saying she wouldn't, and even though those odds were far better than none at all, one quarter out of four was still a significant proportion. And then there was the chemotherapy, and a bone marrow transplant, too...he knew she was going to get far sicker from the treatment than she was right then, and then she had to wait and see if a donor even turned up. What if one couldn't be found? What would she do? She couldn't wait indefinitely...

At the same time, he knew that nothing he was thinking about was really that helpful. Survival rates and worrying over how well she would be in the future had no impact on the here and now. And, even though he wanted to get into an immediate discussion about why she had basically lied to his face, made him concerned for the wrong reasons, and tried to keep him from seeing and the others from knowing if she was alright, he knew it would probably make her more comfortable and less likely to throw up a wall if they eased into having a talk like that.

Getting off on the right foot would only help him when he asked again.

And he wasn't going to leave without knowing.

He nodded in reply to her statement, "He seems like a very capable doctor."

C.C. gave a half-smirk, "Oh, he is. He's also an asshole in a number of ways, too, but hey, he knows what he's doing."

Niles smiled, too. By the little he had seen from the clinic, he could already tell this was probably one of the best hospitals to treat her condition, and he supposed that her oncologist would be one of the most capable doctors, too – she was a Babcock, after all, and she'd certainly make sure to get the best treatment her money could buy.

"Then I understand why you two get along, then," Niles said, his brow furrowing slightly. "After all, you two do enjoy making others miserable."

C.C. grimaced. She knew that he was angry under his tranquil tone. She had given a lot of thought to what she had done to him, and eventually she had reached to the conclusion that faking a mental breakdown and then leaving him to worry was more than a little cruel from her part. Guilt had been an unwanted company since she had reached that conclusion, so maybe if they talked things out her conscience would be more at ease.

"Yeah..." came her lame reply.

They fell silent for a few seconds – both were aware of the other knowing exactly what they were feeling, and Niles didn't want to pressure her into speaking. But it was also implicit that he wouldn't leave without answers.

"I suppose saying sorry for what I did is not nearly enough, is it?" she asked, again fixing her gaze on her lap. She was afraid that he'd see the extent of her regret if she allowed him to look into her eyes.

"Not really, no... Why did you do it?" Niles asked.

C.C. shrugged weakly. Truth was that she didn't exactly known why she had chosen him, and she still didn't want to admit she was afraid of being pitied.

"I simply couldn't... well... abide any of you to see me like this," she gestured at herself. "And I... I never thought you'd be so worried about me."

Niles frown only deepened. How could she say that?! How could she even suggest that he wouldn't care if she had a mental breakdown?! Granted, they had been at odds for years, but he did worry for her...

"Babcock, how did that idiotic thought cross your mind?!" Niles moved closer to her, wanting her to look at him in the eye. "It was cruel of you to mock me like you did, especially when you could see I was worried for you!"

C.C.'s eyes shot to his and her lips hardened into a line. "Oh, so it was cruel of me to behave in the same way you did after you woke up from your heart attack? Remember about that? You know, that time I saved your life and you tricked me into finding Maxwell and Nanny Fine together after I had been worried sick for you?"

Niles felt like he'd been slapped. All the same emotions coursed through his body; shock, and hurt, and anger all at once. Why did she choose to bring that, of all things, up now, when there were more important things to think about? He wanted to argue that what happened when he was the one in the hospital bed had nothing to do with this, with her illness or her lying to prevent anyone from knowing about it, and therefore had no place in the conversation.

But there also came the deep, unshakable sense that she had more than a good point. Where would the retribution be in telling him? In doing things this way, she had been able to get back at him for what was, quite frankly, a heartless and unnecessary act with no real basis behind it. He didn't have to make her walk in on the Sheffields, and yet he'd done it anyway, so why should he expect her to go about things in a method that most people would consider to be the proper way, when keeping them even would be so much more satisfying?

He leaned back in his chair, letting out a breath, "...I suppose this makes us even, then."

"I didn't do it to even things between us," she replied sharply, snuggling in her chair. She was feeling slightly dizzy... well, it was probably the nausea. "I was merely showing you that I behaved exactly like you did. I had no way of knowing you'd care so much. I mean, I knew you'd take action to get me where I needed to be – that's the main reason why I staged my breakdown in front of you – but I never imagined you'd be so affected by my supposed breakdown."

So it was a matter of convenience? She had chosen him because she knew he'd do something to help her... Niles didn't exactly know how to feel. There was a part of him that couldn't help but be thrilled by her trusting that he'd take care of her while in need; but there was another one that was still deeply hurt. She might not have intended to hurt him in the beginning, but what about the time when he had come to visit? Surely she had been able to notice his concern, yet she had chosen to pretend she didn't even remember him…

"But what about pretending you were sixteen?" Niles argued back, always keeping his voice level. He may be angry, but he didn't want to upset her or make her feel worse than she already did.

C.C. grimaced again. "Well... I just couldn't tell you the truth. I did try to make the encounter as brief as possible, though – I didn't mean to upset you."

Niles huffed out in frustration. He now understood her aim had not been to upset him, but why do it in the first place?! Why the need to hide from her friends, to face treatment alone, to suffer in silence...

He didn't get it.

"Babcock," he said in a soft voice, wordlessly asking her to look at him. "I know that, for once in your wretched life, your purpose wasn't to irk me... but why do you do this to yourself? Why do you want to fight alone?"

Silence was his answer, but it didn't last for long. The producer suddenly shut her eyes tightly, and blindly reached out for his hand.

"Miss Babcock?" Niles asked, worry making him feel breathing was an almost impossible task. "Are you alright?"

C.C. shook her head no. She gulped and fruitlessly tried to sit back up.

"I... I'm allergic to nausea medication... I... I am about to be sick," she said in between breaths. "Give… me… the… bin…"

And that's when Niles noticed it – there was a metal bin just by his left foot, and it was obviously there for her to vomit into it if she needed to. He acknowledged her words and automatically knew what to do – he'd had plenty of practice from taking care of an entire household for so many years. He'd seen countless bouts of flu and stomach bugs, from the Sheffield children and their parents alike.

And each one had a similar result at some point or another.

He snatched up the bucket and handed it to her, just in time for C.C. to noisily hurl the contents of her stomach into it. He flinched as she did so – he hadn't liked hearing it when the family were unwell, either, but this was vastly different. This wasn't just some simple virus that would go away with a few days' bedrest.

This was life-changing.

 _Life-threatening._

And it made him feel helpless, because what else could he do but sit back and watch?

He had an urge to get up, to walk over to her and rub her back, to ease the discomfort as best he could and to reassure her that he was there, but that would be going too far, and he knew it. She hadn't given him permission to be so close – she hadn't even given him permission to be there in that room, or even that hospital, technically – and anything other than what he was doing right then and there would be out of the question.

She eventually lifted her head weakly from the bin, gulping in deep breaths and still coughing a little. She leaned back in her chair, hugging the bin to her.

"Is... everything alright?" he asked. He felt stupid as soon as the question had left his mouth – things were most definitely not alright – but it felt like the question one would ask in such a scenario.

"Yeah, yeah..." she replied, still trying to catch her breath back. "I'll be fine."

Niles regarded her with what he hoped was a reasonable amount of sorrow. Not the amount he was actually feeling; that might be considered too much. He didn't want her to feel that he pitied her, because he knew she'd resent that. She didn't have to be as brave as she was putting on right then. She was a woman of great pride, but pride always came before a fall.

And he wasn't going to let her fall. He'd catch her long before then.

With her arms clearly busy still hugging the bin, and most likely too weak to lift very far or move without disturbing her IV drip, he took a handkerchief from his pocket, and slowly and gently dabbed away the sweat that had formed on her brow from the effort. She looked up at him questioningly.

He indicated to her arms with his head, "You looked a little occupied."

She hesitated, as though expecting for a punchline, but in the end she smiled weakly.

"That's very thoughtful of you, Butler Boy... thank you."

Now it was his turn to smile. There was still hope that she might agree to him accompanying through her ordeal, and although she was severely weakened by her disease, the fiery woman he loved so much was still there.

She was fighting, fighting hard – cancer was not going to win without her giving one hell of a fight.

He took the bin from her hands, left it by the side of her armchair – just in case she needed it again – and sat back down on his own chair. C.C. had closed her eyes, and she wrapped herself with the warm, pink blanket that had previously been covering her legs.

It was obvious that she was not up for any more serious discussions – at least not when she was in the middle of a chemotherapy session. She was tired, and anything he had to say could wait for a few more hours.

"Do you need anything else?" he asked.

"A glass of water, and – if you don't mind – could you read for me?" C.C. indicated with her head at the book he was holding. "I am rather tired, and seeing as you love to hear the sound of your own voice, I wondered if you could do that for me."

He took the book in his hands, giving her an unimpressed look as he pulled it closer to him and set it down on the arm of the chair.

"Alright, I'll do it," he rose from his seat, heading for the bathroom. "And I'll let you have that one, too; it wouldn't be fair of me to expect a great exchange of wordplay after what you've just been through."

What she was still going through, he thought to himself as he grabbed a glass from a shelf above the sink, and filled it with water. But this was good – a good sign. She was asking him to help her, even if only in a small way. Maybe this would make asking to help her through it easier; he could come again to visit, after all, now that he knew she was here. He could bring her things from her penthouse if she were to ask, and he could bring her more books and music, too. If she named it, he would do it.

Whatever it took to help her get better again.

He returned with the water, setting it gently in her hands to make sure she didn't spill any, or drop the glass. He then returned to his chair, picked up the book, and began to read from the open page.

"More than once did Elizabeth, in her ramble within the park, unexpectedly meet Mr. Darcy," he paused, and looked up at C.C.. "Really? Pride and Prejudice?"

She gave a vague movement, which Niles realised was a very weak shrug, "I read it in high school, and I've been wanting to read it again ever since. But too many things came up, and seeing as I have the time now..."

She trailed off into silence, then shook her head lightly, and made an ushering motion with one hand, "Just keep reading, Hazel."

Niles frowned. She was bored here, and stuck with it, too. That only further encouraged him to try and bring it up. Maybe he could suggest coming to read to her more often? And when they'd finished Jane Austen, they could move on to something else? Ideas were beginning to seem endless, but he decided to not distract himself with it too much as he started to read again.

It didn't take long for the woman to fall asleep, Niles had only read fifteen pages when he noticed she was no longer awake. Her breathing was slower, more paused, and her tense features had relaxed.

Good. She clearly needed the rest.

Niles grabbed the bookmark that she had left on the table by her armchair, placed it on the page he had last read to her and closed the book. He brushed his fingers against the cover – he remembered C.C. telling Maxwell about how much she loved the novel... and having been able to read it to her had made him feel strangely warm inside.

He lowered it onto his lap and his gaze travelled to the sleeping woman. Now that the air had been cleared and that she had actually allowed him to help and read for her, Niles couldn't help but feel that she now might be more open to the idea of him coming to visit. Not to get him wrong, he was planning on coming regularly even if C.C. hadn't exactly said she wanted him there, but he wanted to be more than just a visitor.

He wanted to help her, to hold her hand through the worse, to keep her entertained when the monotony of life at the hospital got the best of her...

Niles, after having noticed that there was part of her body that the blanket didn't cover, stood up and grabbed a second blanket, which he carefully placed over C.C.'s frail form. It was hard to see her like this – tired, broken and in pain... in some months her illness had turned her into a mere shadow of what she had once been, and even if her personality was still the same, he couldn't ignore the fact that her cancer had changed her.

Once the producer was properly wrapped up, he sat back down on his chair and simply observed her sleep. There was something incredibly soothing about the faint noise of her steady and tranquil breathing... perhaps it was because being able to hear it meant that she was alive.

He could feel his fears rising to surface once again – what if she didn't make it? What if her treatment wasn't enough? What if he lost her? Would he be able to go on? There was a big part of him that knew the answer was a rotund no.

"You are going to make it, do you hear me?" he whispered, giving in to his desperation and delicately clutching her hand. "You are going to win this war."

Much to his surprise, the woman stirred in her sleep, and tightened her grip on his hand – actually, she pulled it to her and laid her cheek on it, as though it were some kind of pillow. His heart gave a jolt as she snuggled against his skin, and his breath hitched slightly – though luckily not enough to wake her. He stayed exactly where he was, not willing to risk moving too much and disturbing her.

Her body might have been underweight, but her skin was as soft as ever, and he couldn't help but run one finger gingerly over her cheek. However much of her was registering his touch didn't seem to complain, giving a small but relaxed-sounding moan, and the producer slept on. The butler smiled softly, glad that, despite everything that was going on and the treatment she was receiving, C.C. seemed to be resting at least for the moment, and wasn't disturbed or made worse by his presence.

That made him feel more secure in what he suddenly realised he could actually want; if they could be like this without any problems, then there was a greater chance that he would be allowed to come back – that she would want him to come back. He could read to her again, and maybe bring her more things to do – playing cards, movies for her television, puzzles, music...the list of things seemed endless, really.

He was so caught up in imagining what he could do that he didn't hear footsteps at the door.

"Am I interrupting a beautiful and tender moment?"

Niles turned his head in the direction the voice was coming from, feeling a bit like a deer caught in the headlights. He knew who the man standing at the door was – it wasn't the first time he'd met Dr Wilson, but it was the first time that he saw him while knowing his true field of expertise.

The oncologist had a knowing smirk plastered to his face, and he made no attempt to hide it as he made his way towards the armchair. Just behind him came Nurse Cameron, who seemed rather surprised to see him there.

"Well... I... she..." Niles stammered, looking between the oncologist and Nurse Cameron.

"My, you were a lot more articulate when you thought I was a psychiatrist!" Wilson said, pushing a chair towards C.C.'s so he could sit down to comfortably remove her IV.

"I am sorry about that," Nurse Cameron piped up. "I did not agree with the ruse, but seeing as Dr-"

"Oh, please, Cameron!" The oncologist scoffed. "It was hilarious! It was better than most of my soaps."

"It was unethical!" Cameron retorted, passing a pair of rubber gloves to Wilson.

"And that is important because...?"

The nurse frowned. "God, you are unbelievable…"

The noise around her must have interrupted the producer's sleep, for Niles could feel her stirring and letting go of his hand so she could stretch. Losing the contact with her skin was rather depressing, but he figured he might get another chance... maybe... if the odds were in his favour.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," Wilson said. "How are you feeling?"

"Just peachy, thank you," she muttered. Niles chuckled under his breath. There was still fight in her, even if she was exhausted. "What time is it?"

"Four thirty," her doctor replied. "Time for this thing to come out, too."

C.C. slowly sat up, rubbing the bleariness from her eyes as she did so. Her head was throbbing, but she felt well rested. She extended her hand at Wilson and the doctor swiftly removed her IV, covered the spot with gauze and scrambled to his feet, ready to help C.C. back to her bed.

Cameron went to help, too, but Wilson stopped her. "Don't worry, Cameron, Grandmamma will help me."

"Grandmamma...?" C.C. asked confusedly, her voice still heavy with sleep as she looked around, only to spot Niles in the chair next to hers. The butler looked startled, like someone had just volunteered him to do something dangerous without his knowledge and only told him about it five minutes before he was due to do it. And, slowly, as her mind began to clear a little, she began to understand what Wilson was saying. "Oh..." there was a hint of a question in her expression. "You stayed?"

He wanted to say "Of course", but something stuck in his throat when he went to speak. Maybe it was her implication that she had expected him to leave. He nodded, and he saw her features soften.

"Thank you," she murmured.

Feeling his heart swell, Niles chanced a smile, "The pleasure was all mi-"

"Ah, I am sorry to interrupt you," Wilson said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But are you going to help me move her or not?"

Niles glanced back and forth between the doctor, who was looking at him expectantly, the producer, whose face suggested that she still wasn't fully awake yet, and the nurse, who was keeping back and giving him a sympathetic look. She knew that he felt a little bit put on the spot. It wasn't like he'd meant to be holding C.C.'s hand when the doctor walked in, after all, even if it had been nicer than he could have imagined. He would have had to pull away. Eventually.

And Wilson was taking full advantage, both of the position he had found them in, and his stunned silence.

"Well, Grandmamma? We're waiting," the doctor insisted, pulling back his sleeve and eyeing his watch with interest. "Time's a-wastin'."

Steeling himself, Niles rose from his chair, and moved to help Wilson lift C.C. from hers. He slipped an arm around her back, a pain growing in his chest as he realised how light she was, and that the point his hand was resting on was her protruding spine, and together he and the doctor walked C.C. towards her bed.

The woman not only was slightly confused from having just awoken, but she was also exhausted and weak due to her treatment. Nile supposed having strong chemicals pumped into one's system would be, at least, tiring. C.C. was able to lie down on her own once they got her to her bed, but Nurse Cameron did help to tuck her in. Niles almost couldn't believe his eyes – in the many years he had known C.C. Babcock, he had never seen her look this weak before…

The producer could barely keep her eyes open, and she vaguely reminded him of a rag doll when he noticed how effortlessly the nurse and doctor moved her around while checking her vitals and getting her settled in bed. She was soon hooked up to a heart monitor and to another IV bag – Wilson said that those were the much needed painkillers – and Niles could only observe them work as he gingerly took a seat on the chair next to her bed.

"At what time do visiting hours end?" he asked Wilson.

The oncologist checked his watch. Visiting hours had already ended, but considering what had gone one between those two and how concerned Niles looked, he could allow them an extra hour. "Well, you can stay for another hour, but then you must go – after all, our mutual irritation here does need to rest."

"But now it's time for her to have dinner," Nurse Cameron cut in, opening the door to allow a young nurse wheel in a cart carrying her dinner.

"I don't want to eat," the producer groaned, grimacing when the smell of her meal creeped into her nostrils. She was not hungry, and after having vomited she didn't feel like having any more food.

Wilson frowned. "Babcock, you can't refuse food, even if you fear it might make you sick again! What part of 'your weight is 90 pounds and dropping' do you not understand?"

"I understand all of it, I just don't care," she grumbled, trying to turn over. When the attempt proved fruitless, she resolved to remain lying there on her back, an irritated noise emanating from the back of her throat as she glared sleepily at the ceiling.

"Well, that's a pity, because it just so happens that I do," Wilson took a step forward and lifted the plastic lid off her dinner, pushing the table towards the producer so the food was within reaching distance, if she sat up. "And, seeing as I am the doctor and you are the patient, my caring outranks your not caring, and you have to sit up and eat for me, okay?"

C.C. made a noise that sounded like " _pfft_ ", and Wilson actually genuinely appeared unamused for once.

"I'm not leaving – no one is leaving – until you eat something," he told her, folding his arms. "My shift isn't over for another six hours; I can wait."

"It won't do you any good; you'll be driving back to wherever it is you sit and write out those cheap lines you think make you a comedian long before I touch that plate," her voice was adamant, if still groggy.

"You know, for someone so sick, you're awfully verbal," Wilson replied. "Some of that energy would be better spent eating and creating more energy, so that you could talk to us better and we could make you better, don't you think? You take a couple of bites, and happy days, everybody wins!"

C.C. glared at her doctor – this was not the first time they had argued about her reluctance to eat after a chemo session, and knowing her oncologist, she was aware that he'd stay right there with her until she had eaten her meal. Wilson and her were similar in a number of aspects, one of them being an almost infuriating stubbornness and a ferrous will to do things they rather not be doing just to spite others.

"Fine!" the producer snarled, slowly sitting up and taking her fork in her hand. "I'll humour you so I don't have to listen to you anymore."

Wilson smirked, knowing he had accomplished his purpose. However, he wasn't about to leave before he had seen C.C. swallow down a few bites of her meal. He knew his patient was prone to doing what she wanted despite the medical advice telling her otherwise, so he wanted to make sure that she had, at least, eaten a quarter of her dinner before going back to his office.

"That's what I like to hear – I told you I can be insufferable when I want to," Wilson said cheerfully as he perched on the side of her bed.

"You are always insufferable, even when you aren't trying," she glanced at Niles – who seemed to be rather amused by the verbal exchange between doctor and patient – and smiled. "That's something you two have in common."

"Then I should thank him, really," Niles spoke, casting one of his lopsided grins. How she had missed those grins… "It gives me peace of mind to know that someone has been pestering you for me."

C.C. rolled her eyes at him, but she had to supress a smile of her own. In a sense, Wilson had been a replacement for Niles – sparring with him hadn't been as fun as sparring with Niles was, but it had been a good enough substitute. Of course, now that he knew about her condition, she supposed that the butler would want to come and visit her regularly, which meant that she'd again be able to exchange witty insults with him.

And, if she was being honest, that made her happier than she had been in months.

She wasn't sure what did it exactly, but something about what she had just thought made her appetite pick up a little more. Her stomach rumbled audibly as she took more bites, causing her to send a warning glance at Niles, as though daring him to say something about the noise, and she had to eat more in order to make sure both the sound inside her and any potential sound outside that he made would be silent.

Before she knew it, she'd practically cleaned her entire plate.

Wilson gave her a somewhat patronising smile, "There. That wasn't so hard now, was it?"

C.C. pushed her plate away and leaned back against her pillow, pouting slightly, "It was easier than listening to you, I guess..."

He might have been right, but that didn't mean that she was going to admit it any time soon. He'd been irritating enough for just those few seconds in which he'd insisted that she ate – God only knew how much worse it would get if she said out loud that yes, she had been hungry and needed it! How helpless and pathetic would that have looked? She still had her autonomy, and she was going to exercise it as much as possible before her illness took too much of it away and suddenly everyone was making decisions for her.

She was dreading that day. But for now, she felt a little better, having food in her stomach and the doctor and nurse probably about to leave to go check on some of the other patients.

That would leave her alone with Niles. Which, as awful as it would have sounded before, didn't seem so terrible considering they hadn't seen each other in so long...she'd missed him, and they still had things to catch up on.

"Alright," the oncologist said, turning for the door. "Now that my mission here has been accomplished I must go. I still have to check on the other patients – you know, the other, lesser mortals that, unlike you, do need emotional support and tell their family and friends about their condition," Wilson gave her a rather smug look as he opened the door and walked out.

Nurse Cameron soon followed him out, carrying with her the remnants of C.C.'s dinner.

The producer could feel the blush creeping to her cheeks – they hadn't talked much about her reasons to keep this a secret, and honestly she really didn't have the strength to do so right then, either. She supposed Niles would eventually want answers, but tonight – after having gone through a six-hour-long chemo session and having vomited once – she simply couldn't do it.

Niles knew so, too. He could see the tiredness in her eyes, the exhaustion... they could discuss this when she was feeling slightly better. Besides, there were many other things he wished to know – and he also wanted to ask her if she wanted him to come back again to visit tomorrow.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"I am feeling okay, I guess," she replied, snuggling under the covers. She could feel sleep trying to claim her once again, but she didn't want this talk to end... not yet. "The worst is yet to come, though."

Niles tried not to show the amount of sorrow her words caused him, but his voice wobbled a bit when he spoke. "And... and what is yet to come?"

"More nausea, for starters – I assure you the food I just ate will be in the bin in a few hours. Then the neuropathy, the feeling of having been run over by a truck and, well, I guess that's it. Luckily, I am no longer dreading my hair falling down – I took care of that problem myself," she said, taking off her bandana and setting it on her bedside table. "I shaved my hair before it fell by itself."

His eyes followed her hand as she lay the bandana on the table, and then travelled back to her face. Part of him did so very much want to weep at seeing her so ill and tired-looking, knowing that there was a slim chance it would be the last state he ever saw her in, but he was resilient in not letting her know about it. She'd only resent it, and he didn't want to leave just yet. He also wanted there to still be a chance he could come back tomorrow, and upsetting her would almost certainly guarantee that he wouldn't be allowed to visit any more.

The only problem was, he wasn't quite sure where to take the conversation. It was obvious they couldn't have the one he had come to have just yet – C.C. wasn't well enough to handle that kind of pressure. But how would he keep it going? Did he follow her comment about her hair? How could he do that so naturally? He didn't want to slip up and accidentally say something offensive.

Not when the doctor had given him permission to stay for a little longer, and he hadn't yet asked about coming back the next day...

Seeing her without hair was something he never thought he'd see, though, or even ever have to think about. Neither did the producer, if the straightforward but somewhat resigned way she spoke gave any clue as to how she was feeling. He did wonder about how she felt having to do it – having to part with something she'd had her entire life, something that was such a part of her it was practically a trademark of her looks...something that many people would describe as beautiful, and could only enhance the beauty of the rest of her...

He shook that from his head. Now wasn't the time to get caught up in daydreaming like that. Time was running short – he'd have to leave soon, and it was clear that C.C. could barely keep her eyes open. She'd need to rest, digest what food she could before the next wave of nausea hit, and conserve energy.

He nodded and rose from his chair. It was better to say nothing in that situation. Knowing C.C. like he did, Niles knew she'd appreciate his silence more than any comment that he could come up with.

Niles went to turn off the light so C.C. could rest more comfortably, but he left her bedside lamp on so the room wasn't completely in the dark.

"Thank you," she muttered, relaxing against her pillows.

"You are most welcome," he replied, chancing a smile. It was obvious that the woman was comfortable around him, and that was a motive for celebration, really.

"It was nice of Wilson to let you stay," the producer slurred, slowly losing the battle to remain conscious. "But you must come on time tomorrow – visiting hours begin at 11:00 o' clock."

Niles felt his breath catching in his throat. She wanted him to come back... C.C. Babcock actually wanted him to visit her! He had to make an almost inhuman effort not to reach out for her and stamp a kiss on her lips – she was letting him in, little by little, and maybe this was a start that would result in him being able to accompany her during her treatment.

He so wanted to be there for her...

"I promise I'll be punctual tomorrow," he eventually said.

"I know you will," the drowsiness in her voice made it increasingly clear that she was about to fall asleep, and she was more than happy that Niles was going to be the last person she saw before falling asleep. "Niles, do you think you could read for me a bit more? Maybe until I fall asleep?"

He was feeling so giddy, it took all his willpower to reply calmly to her request, "Of course."

With a smile, he picked up the book again and retook his seat. In the space of just a few hours, that chair had become the most comfortable seat he'd ever sat in, and he resolved that that place was where he would sit for all of his visits, however many in number they ended up being. It delighted him to know that it would be at least twice.

Clearing his throat overdramatically and feeling pleased when he saw C.C. smirk out of the corner of his eye, he began, "In a hurried manner he immediately began an inquiry after her health..."

* * *

He only read a few more paragraphs before he realised that C.C. had drifted off, and he closed the book again, leaving it on her bedside table. He considered switching the lamp off, too, but figured that C.C. might want to be able to see what she was doing if she was woken in a few hours by her nausea, and would only lose precious time fumbling for the switch before she made it to the bin. Thinking of that, he moved the bin closer to her bed, too, so that she wouldn't have to go so far.

Upon finishing this, he had originally turned to leave, but got caught up in watching her sleep again. He couldn't help himself, really – she looked so peaceful, despite the illness raging in her body. He liked to imagine that she was dreaming. Of what, he didn't know, but he hoped it was happy.

As happy as he felt walking out and closing the door behind him, knowing he'd get to see her again the next day.

All he had to do now was think up some excuse for his absence to the Sheffields.

* * *

 **AN: Hiya! Thank you for your reviews, they are truly an encouragement and a cause of** **great happiness for us! In response to Kelly's review: Yes, you are correct! C.C. Babcock is one hell of a fighter. We expect you are enjoying the story and, as usua, we'd love to get your reviews!**

 **H &L**


	7. Chapter 7

**_Chapter 7_**

 ** _Confessions_**

Niles pulled up the hospital's driveway, a beaming smile on his face. The day seemed to mirror his mood – although the temperature was still low, it was the warmest that it had been in a long while; the morning sun rays were trickling inside the car through the windshield, and there was a sense of peace and wellbeing floating in the air. Of course he was not happy about C.C. needing to be in a hospital, but he was happy that she had allowed him to visit her again.

It hadn't been easy to escape the mansion without giving his true reasons to the Sheffields. He had tried sneaking out after serving breakfast, but Fran had noticed him leaving and, as usual, Queen Yenta had tried to discover exactly where he was going; knowing C.C. wouldn't like him to tell the Sheffields about her illness, he had made up a lame excuse about a relative of his coming to town and that he was going to spend the day out with him. Fran hadn't seemed convinced about his explanation, but she hadn't asked any more questions – something for which Niles had been more than grateful. He truly had to find a good excuse to give the Sheffields so as to justify all the time he'd be spending at the hospital, but for now he just wanted to enjoy the day by keeping C.C.'s company.

He had also taken the liberty to sneak into Mr Sheffield's office and take a few discarded scripts from the trash – Niles knew Babcock would appreciate having some theatre material to criticise and go through, even if she didn't have a saying on what the company was to produce anymore. Niles could only suppose not working had been almost anguishing for the producer – after all, if there was one thing that could be said about Miss Babcock, it was that she was a workaholic – so he hoped she'd appreciate him bringing her those scripts.

After parking the car and buying some flowers in the hospital's gift shop, the butler headed for her room, taking a moment to greet C.C.'s nurse when he crossed her on the way to the producer's room.

"How is she today?" Niles asked, part of him fearing the answer.

Nurse Cameron attempted a smile. "She's hanging there. As you well know the chemo causes exhaustion, nausea and many other symptoms such as neuropathy – which is a condition she absolutely dreads and suffers from it after every chemo session. Today she has just vomited a few times, and right now she is playing the piano."

"The... piano? But where-"

"She cajoled Dr Wilson into having a small piano brought into her room a few months ago," Nurse Cameron interrupted him, "She plays it whenever she is bored or stressed. She used to go down and play the one in the music room, but now that she…" the nurse trailed off, shaking her head. She looked rather sad for a few moments, but she quickly recovered and went back to smiling. "… Oh, never mind. If you hurry up, you might hear her playing Sinatra's 'Time After Time'."

"So… that means she is feeling okay?" the butler asked again, growing nervous.

"Look, Mr. Brightmore, I will be honest with you – she used to play when she felt alright, but now she does it as a way to escape from the pain. It's her way to cope when she is not feeling okay. She is scared; Miss Babcock knows the side effects are kicking in, and neuropathy is a pain she is barely able to tolerate but comes after every chemo session."

"Oh..." Niles felt like he was deflating. He could have guessed that C.C. was scared, even if she tried so very hard not to show it. Anyone would be terrified in this kind of situation. But to be reminded of all the pain she was having to be put through in order to stop being terrified (he refused to think of that as only a potential outcome) made him feel like he was being kicked whilst he was down, already bleeding on the floor.

But he was being insensitive, thinking only of how it was impacting on him – it was far worse for C.C..

He nodded softly, clutching the bag containing the scripts in one hand and her flowers in the other, "I understand."

"Your visit might be a nice distraction, though," the nurse began to beam a little more encouragingly. "She was very happy to see you yesterday."

The butler felt his spirits lift somewhat. Hearing that he had made Miss Babcock happy from anyone at all was a rarity. Though if he could hear it from the woman herself, that would be a true miracle.

If he could cheer her up again today, especially after her vomiting and pain, maybe he'd get to hear her say something along those lines.

He bade the nurse farewell, and entered the room, rapping his knuckles lightly on the door as he went in. He didn't think she heard him as he approached, though; she was too engrossed in the melody.

"And time after time, you'll hear me say that I'm so lucky to be loving you..."

She must have sensed he was there, because as she played the final notes, she looked up.

They both smiled and she gestured for Niles to come in. She didn't stop playing, though, as a matter of fact she simply began playing another song. At first he didn't recognise it, but he soon realised she was playing "Yesterday" from The Beatles.

The butler knew she was a fan of the British band; he had heard her say so on a number of occasions. However, he hadn't known Miss Babcock was a talented pianist, too. She chose not to sing this time, though, allowing the room to be filled only with the peaceful sound of the piano.

Niles didn't dare to sit by her side, so he chose to perch on the edge of her bed, where he could get a good view of the woman. Although she still looked sick, it was nice seeing her up and about – God knows she'd soon need to be in bed again.

So engrossed was he in staring at her long fingers expertly dancing over the keys, that he didn't notice the tears in her eyes.

It had been four long months of treatment, four months during which she'd hidden from her loved ones, but only now she was starting to feel afraid. She hadn't expected to see Niles of all people there, and his arrival had somehow cracked the dam that had prevented her worries and sorrows to break loose. Water was filtering through those cracks; the producer had faced her treatment with bravery, but a childish part of her kept screaming _'I don't want to do this anymore!'_. She was tired of the pain, of the nausea, the neuropathy and feeling constantly exhausted. She was tired of having to stay in bed for days after each chemo session, and only now those emotions were coming to surface.

The cycle after each treatment was consistent: she got nauseous, vomited and then she'd begin to feel tired before neuropathy kicked in. If her calculations were correct, the last effect was about to make its dreaded appearance, and there was a part of her that didn't want Niles to see her in pain.

And yet, the prospect of someone holding her hand through the worst made her feel like a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

C.C. still couldn't quite grasp why Niles' presence was so comforting – after all, the man had been her declared nemesis for years – but now she couldn't wish for a better person to be there with her.

At last, when she was halfway through the song, Niles noticed the tears.

"What's wrong?" he asked, rising to his feet and going to her side.

"I... I... I don't know..." she whispered, still not daring to stop playing or to look up at him. "Or maybe I do. I... I just want this to be over. Why can't it be over?"

It felt almost childish to ask that question. Intellectually, she knew why it couldn't be over, but right then it wasn't important. She slowly turned her head to him and repeated, "Why can't it be over?"

As she dissolved into sobs, the music trailing off as her fingers got weaker and fumbled uselessly at the keys, he did the only think he could think to do; he leaned himself on the edge of her seat, took her gently in his arms and he held her, letting her cry for as long as she needed to. She felt so fragile in his embrace, both from her illness and her current state of mind, that he considered making his hold on her even lighter – feather light, so that she couldn't possibly shatter, and wouldn't leave him.

But at the same time, she was breaking from the inside, too, and he had to hold firm enough to keep her right where she was, and let her know that he was there, too.

He so very much wanted her to know that he was there, and that he wasn't going anywhere.

"It will be over, soon," he wanted to promise. The words sounded like a promise when they left his mouth, but they had no right to do so. It was going to take so long, and they both knew it.

And she was already so tired...

"No it won't," she cried, her tears wetting his shoulder. "Everyone keeps saying that, but it feels endless! I can't see the end, Niles. I feel lost, trapped in some dark room with no way of finding my way out..."

Carefully and cautiously, he began to rub her back soothingly. Her spine beneath the fabric of her shirt was a jarring sensation for his fingers, no matter how light his touch was.

"You don't have to be in that room alone," he said. "Someone could help you find your way out – be a guiding hand...if you let them."

C.C. sniffed, "What do you mean?"

Niles hesitated for a second, momentarily doubting if he was really gping to ask her what he wanted to ask. He shook himself out of it almost instantly – she needed him, her current state was proof of that, so he couldn't possibly allow his fears to come in the way of aiding the woman he loved when she needed him the most.

"I mean that I..." his voice trembled, "I want to be there for you. You have isolated yourself for far too long, Miss Babcock, and I, the Sheffields – we are your friends and we all want to help you endure this."

C.C.'s features hardened and she pulled away from him. This startled the butler, but he made no attempt to pull her back to him – she was still too fragile, and he respected her need to get away. This wasn't easy for her, opening up had never been her forte, hence her reluctance to let anyone in. If he was being honest, it was a miracle that she had agreed to a second visit as it was.

"No. I can deal with this alone. Both you and Noel are nice company, but that's it. I don't need anyone to-"

"But you do need support!" he snapped, rising to his feet, just like she had done. "This is proof of it! Babcock, you are the strongest person I know, and I'd never put that in doubt, but you do need help! And needing support during your illness doesn't make you weak."

C.C. flinched, and stalked to him with surprising speed for someone as ill as her. "It's not a matter of strength! You just don't understand..."

"Then help me understand! Why do you need to push everyone away?!"

"Because I am afraid!" the producer screamed. "I am afraid and I can't handle it! I always liked being in control, but this illness stripped myself of that! When I began losing my hair, I shaved my head to try and convince myself that I was still in control, but the more time it passes, the more I understand that's not the case. It breaks me... it breaks me to see how I can't control my cancer, and to know there are no guarantees I'll get better makes it even worse! For all that I know, I could not respond to chemo and it could metastasise and I'll be dead in a few months. And don't even get me started in how I can barely endure the treatment – the pain is truly terrible sometimes! Do you know how many times I thought about simply running away? About letting it kill me and just spend my last months on this Earth travelling and enjoying life as much as I could until I died? No one would care, anyway!" C.C. took in a shuddering breath, turning away from the butler. "But that's not the case, I chose to face it, and seeing the fear in everyone else's eyes, or worse, their pity… is something I don't want – it's something I can't handle. That's why I don't want anyone near me..."

She broke down once again, her knees giving out and she slowly lowered her body to the floor, weeping anew.

Her words cut him deeply – so much so that had they been physical, he would have had some serious mortal injuries at that moment in time.

She'd given him the response he'd expected, really; she was afraid, both of not having control and of seeing other people pitying her. She didn't want that, she had too much pride for that, even if the illness had tried to strip her of it. It made him ache that she didn't want to see other people looking afraid for her – it must have been to do with the pity factor, but it also made him wonder if she worried over them more than she let on.

But what hurt him the most was her, out loud and explicitly, telling him that no one would care if she lost her battle. The thought of her going off somewhere to fight it on her own, without telling anyone, and never coming back again, was the worst thing he could possibly imagine. He could see himself sat in the Sheffield mansion, having no clue of where she was or what she was doing, wondering if she was thinking about them all, as the days passed by and seasons changed, always hoping that maybe that next day would be the day she decided to come back...

He shook himself out of it. Now was not the time to be thinking about how it would affect him. He had to try to convince her that she was wrong in this. He knelt by her.

"You're showing me how afraid you are," he said gently. "I promise not to tell the Sheffields about all of this, just know that none of this would change how they felt about you. It doesn't change how I feel about you. And for the record, it pains me to hear you talk about yourself like you don't matter. There are a lot of people who'd care very much if you...weren't around anymore."

"Yeah? Who?" her tone somewhat resembled the one of a stubborn child, and deep down she knew that she was behaving like one by shutting everyone out. It was just so hard to tear down her walls... "Chester? I am sure he'll live on. He does like Nanny Fine more than he likes me so..." she trailed off, allowing the butler to put an arm around her shoulders.

"Your brother, for starters, your parents, the Sheffields – you do know that Mr Sheffield cares about you, right? You are his friend, and you know Mrs Sheffield does like you, too. And..." Niles swallowed the lump in his throat. "... and me. I... I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

His words caused an effect in her. The producer stopped crying and slowly rose her head from her hands, and stared into his eyes. Niles thought she'd laugh at him, that she'd say he couldn't possibly care about her after being at odds for almost fifteen years, but much to his surprise, she didn't. If he could go back in time and stop himself from pulling the cruellest pranks on her, he would, but he couldn't, and right now he desperately wanted her to understand that he wanted to support her, not hurt her. He knew the wordplay hadn't truly hurt her – it was a game in which she had engaged, too, and something deep within him always knew she enjoyed it.

C.C. sighed, and cocked her head in a pensive manner. "You truly do care... I wonder wh-" her words died in her mouth as she yelped in pain. The strong burning feeling in her nerves only lasted a second, but it was a sign of what was about to come – neuropathy.

"What's wrong?! Did I hurt you?!"

"N-no... just take me to my bed and call my nurse. She knows what to do," C.C. leaned against Niles, fearing that she might collapse to the floor. Sensing his desperation – after all, this was the first time he witnessed this side effect – she looked up at him and tried to smile in an almost comforting manner. "Don't fret, this is neuropathy – pain in the nerves. Nurse Cameron has my painkillers and will draw me a hot bath to help soothe the pain. Also, after you've put me to bed, could you hand me my swimsuit? It's there, over the couch."

He nodded, slipping his arm down slightly so he could lift her from the floor. She winced again as they both got to their feet, and he suddenly felt more afraid than before. She had given him something to do – had told him how he could help her in this situation, but there was still a sense of helplessness that he couldn't overcome.

It didn't stop him from acting, though. She had told him what to do, and he was good at obeying orders, especially important ones.

She was so light from weight loss, he practically carried her across to her bed, not walked her there. Gingerly, he helped her sit, and she lay down by herself. She had probably been wanting to for some time.

He then quickly crossed the room and found her swimsuit, folded neatly over one arm of the couch. Grabbing it, he passed it to her, and fumbled for the call button for the nurse, at the side of her bed.

It felt like forever, waiting for the nurse to come. Every so often, C.C. would flinch or yelp in agony, and it tore at him. He didn't like seeing her like this, even though he knew if he was going to convince her to let him help her through her treatment, he'd have to see this more often, and get used to helping her cope with it. But that would be worth it, as long as he was allowed to be there, and as long as she was getting better.

When Nurse Cameron arrived, Niles had to leave the room for some minutes as the nurse helped C.C. into her swimsuit. Every room counted with an enormous bath tub where patients could relax while suffering from the many side effects that their treatments entailed, and C.C. had also told Niles he could stay if he wanted. After all, both of them had rationalised that it wasn't like she was going to be naked – actually, she'd be wearing her swimsuit.

"We are all set!" the nurse said as she stepped out of the room, taking the rubber gloves off her hands. "I just gave her some oxycodone, so don't worry if she is a little lightheaded. I already took her to the bathroom and got her in the tub, so if you need anything you just need to call me."

Niles nodded, giving the nurse a wry smile. "Thank you. I'll go see her now."

Just when Niles was about to turn for the room, the nurse stopped him. "You know, it might be your second visit, but since you came, she looks more... alive."

And with that, Nurse Cameron left, leaving a pensive Niles behind. He smiled to himself as he went back into her room – he did her good... she actually liked having him there! That was by far the best gift he could ever get.

Well... the second best gift he could get. The best one would be her getting better.

Niles took the book he had been reading to her from her nightstand – he figured she might appreciate him reading to her while she relaxed in the bath – and headed for the bathroom. He had a few questions in mind, too, including one about the bone marrow transplant, but his thoughts were momentarily pushed aside as soon as he stepped a foot inside the bathroom. Wearing her swimsuit he could actually see just how terribly skinny she was; he had felt her bones as he carried her to the bed, but one thing was feeling and another was seeing it...

And it was terrible.

She looked over at him through half-closed eyes as he came in, pushing the door so it was ajar behind him. He didn't know quite what to say. Nothing came to mind that would be even remotely beneficial or not obvious in some way. He could see she was horrifically underweight, and she would obviously know it, too.

There was little point in bringing it up. It would only lead to a conversation that would upset them both.

"Are you gonna quit gawking and sit down any time soon?" she mumbled. "Like you found out yesterday, visiting hours do end."

Her voice snapped him out of it, "Oh, yes...of course."

He took a seat in the chair that was just in front of the tub, and relaxed against the back. A part of him couldn't help but think how comfortable the hospital actually was. She was clearly in the best hospital money could pay insurance for, and well taken care of as a result. It soothed him somewhat – she was resting in a place that was doing its utmost to make her comfortable. The piano alone was evidence of that.

He could only hope his presence continued to make her comfortable. Then he could try asking again, when she was more used to the idea.

For the moment, however, he'd have to be content with coming to visit, and reading with her for a while.

He opened the book up, "Now, I do believe we just left Mr Darcy proclaiming his love for Elizabeth, and her refusing him because of the way in which he behaved towards her and her family before."

"Correct. It seems that what they say about elephant's memories is true!" she teased, relishing in the warm water calming her pain.

"Or I simply opened it where the bookmark indicated and read the last paragraph where we had left off last time?" he gave her an unimpressed look before going back to the book. It was nice to see she was in the mood for wordplay, and there was a part of him that sensed his presence was making it easier for her.

That was probably what soothed his heart the most.


	8. Chapter 8

**_Chapter 8_**

 ** _Hold Me_**

Have you ever felt the relief that comes just after you wake up from a very bad dream? The moment when your mind understands that the terror and despair that had surrounded it only minutes ago, was not real? That's exactly how Niles felt since he had started visiting C.C. one month ago. The time during which he had known nothing about how she was doing or what was wrong with her had felt like a terrible nightmare, and only now that C.C. had finally agreed to allow him to support her through her treatment, did Niles feel like the nightmare was over.

Well… partially over.

Her having cancer was another nightmare in itself, but that was another story. The frequency of his visits had increased considerably since he had first gone to the hospital – now he regularly went to the clinic four or five times a week, sometimes even more. Naturally, the Sheffields had eventually noticed him leaving the house at noon and returning for dinner, and the questions had not taken long to make their appearance. Niles had had to invent numerous (and sometimes plain ridiculous) excuses to justify his mysterious escapades – each one more unbelievable than the last one.

Obviously, it didn't take long for the family to worry about what was going on with him, and Niles had been forced to discuss this with C.C.. He hadn't wanted to upset her – he knew she didn't exactly want the Sheffields to know she was sick – but if she wanted him to keep visiting her, then something would have to be done to appease the family. There was a part of Niles that had feared that C.C. would consider that keeping her secret was more important than him visiting her and that she'd consequently ask him to stop coming so as not to give away her ruse, but much to his surprise C.C. ended up preferring his company over keeping her treasured secret.

It had taken her some time to decide exactly how she wanted to break the news to the Sheffields, and – just as he had expected – the task had been laid upon him. The producer had figured that simply calling to the mansion and saying " _Hey, I know we haven't spoken in months and, as it turns out, I am not crazy! I just have cancer! How have you been?"_ was more than a little tactless; the news had to be delivered in person, and seeing as she couldn't leave the hospital, they had agreed that Niles would speak to the Sheffields for her and then take them to see her at the clinic.

He didn't exactly like being the one to give the family such terrible news, but he was willing to do it for her.

He'd do anything for her…

That's why he was currently walking to the office while gearing himself up for the conversation he was about to have. He had asked both Maxwell and Fran to wait for him in the office for he had an important announcement to make, and after receiving a couple of worried looks from his friends and employers, they had agreed to wait for him there. Niles stood before the closed door for a moment and took a deep breath; he had known this wasn't going to be easy, but he hadn't expected to be this nervous. The butler supposed his uneasiness stemmed from the fact that the information he was about to give was heart wrenching and that he hated having to deliver bad news at all, but he had to do it... C.C. had asked him to.

Taking another deep breath, the butler squared his shoulders and pushed the door open, bracing himself for what was to come. Both Maxwell and Fran – who were sat on the green leather sofa – were startled by the sound of the door opening.

"At last you came, Old Man! What is it that you wanted to talk about?" Maxwell asked as both he and Fran got to their feet. The butler could see the worry on their faces, but he had to try his best to keep them sufficiently calmed until he had told them the news.

"Please sit down," he gestured at the now empty sofa. Noticing their reserve, the butler tried again, "Please, Mr and Mrs Sheffield, I insist on you sitting down. The subject I need to discuss with you is extremely delicate."

Maxwell brows furrowed. "Delicate subject? What on Earth is going on with you, old man?! You've been sneaking out to God knows whe-"

"Please, sir," Niles interrupted him, feeling already on edge. He gave Fran an almost pleading look – if there was someone who could calm Maxwell down, it was Fran. The former nanny nodded minutely at Niles and then placed a comforting hand on her husband's shoulder. Niles could see the British producer relax under his wife's touch and took this as a good sign.

"Max, let's see what he has ta say, okay?" Fran said, sitting back down.

Maxwell sighed and plopped himself down on the sofa. "Fine."

That was it, he had to speak.

"What I am about to discuss with you is a delicate subject that must be kept between us, okay? I need you two to promise me that you won't blab."

"Niles I don't think-"

"Either you promise it, or I won't tell you!" the butler insisted, interrupting Maxwell.

Both Sheffields shared a look and nodded.

"We promise, Scarecrow. Now speak!"

"Alright. This past month I've been visiting Miss Babcock at the hospital," Niles rose a silencing hand when he sensed Fran was about to start asking questions. "Let me finish. I am visiting her at a treatment centre not far away from here because she... she is sick."

"Sick? What do you mean?" Maxwell asked, growing visibly nervous. "Wasn't she in psychiatric care?"

"I am afraid not, sir. She... she is physically ill..." Niles looked up at his friends, heaved a sigh and spoke, "She has Hodgkin's Lymphoma – a type of blood cancer."

Fran covered her gaping mouth with both her hands, eyes wide with shock. Maxwell, however, didn't appear to be able to move. He was sat there, mouth half-open as though he wanted to try and speak, but no words were coming out.

It was a perfectly natural reaction to have, Niles thought. It reminded him, vaguely, of how he had been when he had first seen C.C. in the hospital.

"C.C. has… c-cancer?" the other British man eventually stammered out.

Niles nodded silently, feeling all the heavier for having to hear the words from yet another person. Especially hearing them spoken in a shocked, almost fearful, tone. It was the exact reaction C.C. had been afraid of, and the butler was glad that she wasn't with him at that moment because she wouldn't have been able to stand the amount of pity that would no doubt be laid on her the second the news was out.

"B-but why didn't she tell us?" Maxwell's voice sounded urgent – hurt, even. He clearly didn't understand why his business associate – one of his oldest friends, too – hadn't trusted him enough to tell him something so important. "It's been so long, she could have come to us at any time and told us!"

Fran's hands slipped away from her face as she nodded in agreement with her husband, settling over her heart, "That's exactly right – she didn't have ta make up some story about going ta...well, any other type of hospital! We're her friends, we should be helping her, not being kept in the dark!"

"She didn't tell you exactly because of this!" Niles said as a heavy feeling of sorrow crept into the room, making it feel increasingly cold and devoid of oxygen. "Look, Mr and Mrs Sheffield, Miss Babcock is a proud woman, but she is extremely afraid and in pain now. If you... if you saw her physical state you wouldn't believe-"

"And how are we supposed to see it if she doesn't trust us! She has a life-threatening condition and she stages a mental breakdown?! I can't understand it!" Maxwell was beyond furious. He cared for C.C., and although her quitting had been a hard blow for him, he had thought the woman trusted him. Now it was obvious she didn't...

But beneath the anger and the outrage, the producer was afraid. He didn't know how bad the cancer was, but it's an illness no one should go through and that could worsen before bettering. The lack of information only made it worse, and he was already picturing a dying C.C. in his mind, something he knew would forever haunt him.

"Sir, please, sit down and listen!" Niles pleaded, looking up at his boss and friend. "I know you are angry, but you need to hear her reasons before judging her actions."

Maxwell hesitated, but after his wife took his hand in hers and gave him a look that said _'he is right'_ , the producer sat back down and gestured for him to continue.

"She didn't tell anyone because she is afraid. We all know Miss Babcock has an almost compulsive need for control, and this illness is showing her that she doesn't have it. She tries to be strong, to remain grounded throughout the treatment, but seeing fear and – what bothers her the most – pity in people's eyes only reminds her she can't control this. I've told her she needs support, and she is slowly accepting so, but when she first got to know about the cancer it became too much and she simply escaped," Niles took a moment to take some calming breaths – after all, talking about her condition was still a strain for his own emotional state – and eventually finished, "She wants to see you and explain it herself, that's why she asked me to tell you this today. Now, I am going to the treatment centre in a little while, and I think you should come with me this time."

"Oh..." Maxwell's shoulders slumped, a look of realisation dawning on his face. From what the butler could tell, the producer probably hadn't been thinking about it from C.C.'s point of view. Maybe a visit to see the woman was what he needed. "Is she up for seeing more than one person?"

"I wouldn't have told you today if she wasn't," Niles replied. "We've had to come to this agreement between the two of us. She wouldn't have asked me to tell you if she wasn't completely ready, and seeing more people than just me and her brother will do her some good, I think."

A smile began to grace Fran's features as she rose to her feet, "I think it'll do us all some good, too. Seeing Miss Babcock again after so long! I'll go with ya, Niles, even if Max has too many reservations."

"Wait a minute! I never said anything about having reservations over this!" Maxwell leapt to his feet and turned to Niles. "C.C. is our friend, after all, and Fran's right, we should be there to help her in her time of need."

"Yes, but please, the both of you must remember that Miss Babcock is quite ill," the butler cautioned them softly. "So please; no difficult questions for the time being. And no giving any hints or indications that this visit could have been made out of pity. She needs the rest, does not want to be pitied, and I can deal with most of the questions when we're alone."

Both Maxwell and Fran seemed to deflate a little, but they nodded in agreement without hesitation.

"Of course, Old Man, we will refrain from asking too much and will accept whatever she has to say," the producer gave him a sad smile, heading towards the door alongside his wife. They needed to get ready before going to the hospital, and they didn't have much time left.

"And this visit has nothing ta do with pity!" the former Nanny added, "We are gonna go see our friend, who needs us."

"Give us some minutes and we'll get going."

"Of course, sir. We should leave in half an hour; Miss Babcock has a chemo session today, and when that happens, visiting hours end one hour earlier so she can rest," the butler explained, following the couple out of the office. So far things were going quite well, and he could only hope this visit stayed that way.

With that, both Maxwell and Fran scurried upstairs, muttering about if they should buy a present for C.C. or not. Meanwhile, Niles made a stop at the kitchen, where he put a slice of Miss Babcock's favourite cheesecake inside a basket. He had also stored some movies, books and a deck of cards in it, too – C.C. had already finished reading all the books she had at the hospital, and Niles had promised her to bring new forms of entertainment soon enough.

Once everyone was ready, the party got into the town car, their destination being Miss Babcock's hospital.

* * *

"Oh, please, Wilson!" C.C. scoffed, "You practically gifted me your Queen!" she moved her bishop and swiftly captured Dr Wilson's Queen. "Check."

"She got you, Wilson," Nurse Cameron laughed. She was sat on the couch before C.C.'s bed, observing the weekly chess match between patient and doctor. Both Miss Babcock and Dr Wilson were brilliant individuals, and the similarity of their personalities had led them to bond over wordplay and weekly chess games. So far Miss Babcock had won most of their games, but Wilson always put up a good fight.

"Nope, I got her!" the doctor smirked, using his knight to check her King.

"Dammit!" the producer realised his tactic a moment too late. She was basically doomed – one of his bishops could capture her King, and so could his rook and his knight. C.C. sighed and conceded defeat, rolling her eyes at the doctor's triumphant smirk. "Come on, say it, I know you want to."

"Check mate! Now you owe me a lollipop," the doctor clapped in glee, moving back so Nurse Cameron could take the chess board out of the way so he could insert the IV.

"Pfft, now way I am buying you a lollipop! The deal was that I'd get Niles to bake you that chocolate cake he brought the other time and that you liked so much – keep your word, Doc."

"Spoilsport," the doctor grumbled, putting on his rubber gloves. "I want that cake for tomorrow."

"I'll see what I can do," the producer extended her left hand at Dr Wilson, who was preparing to put her IV back on. The man always did so with extreme care, so much so she barely felt when he inserted it in her skin.

"Lean against the back of the bed and take a deep breath," Nurse Cameron said, taking C.C.'s free hand in hers and squeezing it as the doctor adjusted C.C.'s drip. The worst part was when the chemicals first entered her body – she always got dizzy.

C.C. grimaced, fighting a wave of nausea. How she hated this...

Had she had her eyes open, however, he would have noticed the three newcomers at the door.

Nurse Cameron did, though, and smiled, "Oh, Mr Brightmore! Brought along some company, I see!"

"Hello Nurse Cameron," the butler smiled, stepping aside a little to let the Sheffields come forward and meet her. "This is Mr and Mrs Sheffield – friends of Miss Babcock."

"How do you do," Maxwell greeted cheerfully, despite the fact that he was painfully aware of C.C.'s form lying in front of him, looking more ill than he had even pictured in his mind, and having an IV inserted into her arm. But he remembered what Niles had said, and showing fear wouldn't do anyone any good right then, so he kept it to himself.

"Hi," Fran grinned at the nurse as she followed her husband and the butler into the room.

At the sound of their voices, C.C. opened her eyes and looked up. She wanted to sit up immediately upon seeing them all, but the combination of the doctor putting in her IV and feeling so weak and sick meant that she had to stay exactly where she was.

"Hello, Maxwell. Hello, Nanny Fine," she muttered as they approached her bed. "So I guess Niles did as he was told for once, and brought you both to see me..."

"I do as I'm told when it counts," the butler retorted, placing his basket of goods on the table next to her bed, and gesturing for the Sheffields to take a seat on the sofa while he took the chair nearest C.C.. "For instance, you said that you'd like it if I brought you more of that cheesecake from the other day, so I brought you some in the basket."

"Only doing as told when it really matters is not what a servant is for," the blonde woman muttered. "It'll take a lot more than baked goods to impress me."

"Aw, don't say that! You said about the chocolate cake!" Dr Wilson complained, tossing his gloves into a bin to be disposed of later. C.C. slowly turned her head, unamused.

"I won't ask him at all if you keep that up," she said. "Better yet, I'll ask him, and then keep it and eat it in front of you."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Of course I would," C.C. retorted, giving him a weak smirk. "You know I have no qualms about making people miserable – as a matter of fact, I find it quite fun."

The doctor gave her an unimpressed look as he gave one last once over at her IV and the many monitors that were connected to her body. "No, I am not appealing to the non-existent goodness in your wretched heart, but rather to your common sense. You know, I am your doctor and I can make your stay here a lot harder... if I were you, I wouldn't cross my ill-tempered doctor, now would I?"

Maxwell and Fran seemed outraged at the way Dr Wilson was talking to C.C., both Niles and Nurse Cameron had an unamused expression (they had witnessed this same scene too many times to count) on their faces and C.C. merely arched an eyebrow at her oncologist and huffed out a laugh.

"Touché."

Gregory bowed to an invisible crowd before turning to Niles. "I expect that cake for tomorrow, Niles."

"Why do I have to take care of her gambles?" the butler feigned annoyance, as he usually did, but he didn't really mind. He was going to make the cake to humour both C.C. and her doctor, but that didn't mean he wouldn't put up a show of reluctance.

"I don't know! But I want my cake. Anyway, back to the issue at hand," he looked at C.C. again and helped her get comfortable under the covers as he gave her the indications she already knew by heart. "You have six hours of chemo to go, ok? Stay in bed, try to sleep in a while and stay calmed. I know feral cats like you like to be wild, but for now let's keep the excitement to a minimum."

The producer nodded, snuggling under the covers. Of course she knew that… she had been "keeping the excitement to a minimum" for months now, but it was the price to pay if she wanted to recuperate. The worst part was that it simply got worse and worse as the treatment progressed – granted, she was healing, but she felt like shit most of the time. Lately she had been feeling somewhat lost, distracted, as though she couldn't concentrate… it was the chemo brain, a common side effect that most cancer patients experienced, but that combined with the physical weakness were a bitter pill to swallow.

Thankfully, Niles was there. The man was honestly making everything feel a little more bearable.

"Sure thing, doc…" she muttered, trying to put her arm in a comfortable position without disturbing her IV.

"Excellent. I'll be back in some hours to check on you," the doctor gave her a small smile and turned for the door and made a hasty exit with Nurse Cameron hot on his heels.

Leaving the four alone wasn't necessarily the best idea. The doctor and nurse seemed to take all conversation with them as soon as they left the room. C.C. glanced between each of her visitors – Nanny Fine with what the woman probably hoped was an encouraging smile plastered to her face, Maxwell seeming to be avoiding looking at her directly, and Niles, being...well, just being himself.

Of course he'd look more comfortable there than the Sheffields. He'd been to visit her more times, after all. At least someone in the room was looking at her normally, and almost comfortably. Like it was just something necessary to go through so that something better would happen.

She hoped whatever he thought would happen was better.

Not that it could be worse than this. Being horrendously sick in a room full of the people who, admittedly, knew you better than anyone else despite your best efforts was hardly the ideal. Especially when no one could quite work out what to say, and had taken to silence as a result.

It was one of those deep, deafening silences, too. For once, C.C. was resenting the fact that all the machines she was hooked up to weren't louder just for the extra noise.

"Would somebody please say something?" she eventually asked. "I thought hospital visits were supposed to include that. Not just sitting here watching me like I'm some kind of zoo animal."

The woman began to wonder if having asked them to come had been a good idea. She had expected them to he stunned, to look at her pitifully, as most people did, but this was just upsetting. She needed people to stop treating her with kitten gloves for just ten minutes, she needed people to treat her like a normal human being – just like Niles did.

The butler was the only one apart from her doctor that didn't remind her of how sick she was or how unwell she looked; Niles kept her company and entertained her in ways no one else could, and not once (well, perhaps once or twice, but she could live with that) had he gazed at her like she was about to die.

Niles, sensing the reunion was going downhill, reached out for his basket and rummaged for the slice of cheesecake he had brought.

"There, there, Babcock," he said softly as he handed her the dessert. "I told them not to talk to the wild animal before I've fed it. Try not to bite, alright?"

She accepted the treat, silently thanking him for his attempt to diffuse the tension that now floated around them. C.C. felt a little bit better as soon as she took a bite of the cake, and she relaxed further when Niles absentmindedly patted her thigh in an affectionate manner.

Lately he did so a lot, and she had discovered that she kind of liked it.

Not that she'd say so aloud, though.

"As always, your cooking is wonderful, Julia Child," C.C. teased. "I can't say the same about your behaviour, Nanny Fine, I think I've never seen you so quiet before."

They knew that underneath her calm town she was growing angry, but they were lost. Maxwell was still feeling an urge to cry, and so was Fran. It was just so hard to see C.C. like this, they remembered a powerful, healthy woman, and seeing what was left of her was more than painful for them.

"Oy, I can't believe ya want me ta speak!" the former nanny eventually said, honking a small laugh and perching on the side of her bed.

"It is certainly something I never thought I'd ask of you," the former producer agreed, feeling a little better. "I'll blame it on the drugs."

The two woman shared a smile before C.C. turned to Maxwell, who was still standing a few feet away from her.

"Contrary to what Hazel believes, I won't bite you, Maxwell."

"I... I know C.C.," he advanced a few steps and took a seat on the armchair at the other side of her bed. "It's just been such a long time since I last saw you and now ... well..." the British producer trailed off, kicking himself for the direction his words were going. He wasn't supposed to mention her illness, and he had done exactly that.

"You can say it, Maxwell, it's no secret that I am sick," C.C. said, making Maxwell flinch. "Now, I am sure you have many doubts about why I hid this from you or why I chose to stage a mental breakdown instead of simply being honest, so go ahead and ask, I'll try my best to explain."

Both Sheffields stared at the butler, as though asking him if they should take up her offer. Niles nodded softly – he knew they had to discuss the subject now, any attempt to change the course of the conversation would upset C.C. by making her feel they were being protective of her.

As though gearing himself up for the question that was about to follow, Maxwell straightened his back, and fumbled with neatening his jacket. C.C. was ready for it – Niles could see it on her face. But she knew their employer. The subject was delicate, and it was making him uncomfortable, and the thought of having to just come out and ask something like any of the questions he no doubt had buzzing around in his head was probably mortifying him. But they also all knew he had to be brave. C.C. would only resent being treated so carefully more.

Despite his best efforts not to show it, they saw him take a deep breath in before he spoke at last.

"Thank you, C.C.," he began, looking quickly away to the floor. "A-and you're right, I was going to start by asking why you weren't simply honest with us."

Niles could tell the producer probably wanted to say more than that, too – maybe something along the lines of _"did you not trust us?"_ – but he knew that the dark-haired man would limit himself in that regard. Such an outright accusation would only upset C.C., after all.

"I thought so," the blonde producer nodded softly. "Let me start off by saying that this was not about trust, on any level. This was about me thinking that I should be able to get through this on my own, and not wanting other people to see me...well..."

She trailed off, weakly gesturing at herself.

"Like you're seeing me now, I guess," she finished. "I couldn't stand to think that anybody might pity me."

"But, Miss Babcock, we are your friends!" Fran interrupted, "We would have never pitied you! We just want to be by your side during your treatment."

"I know... I never said my decision made sense," the producer replied quietly, looking down to her hands. "I just... after finding out I was sick... I didn't have the presence of mind to think clearly about many of my decisions."

"Which brings me to my second question," Maxwell cut in. "Niles told us you have Hodgkin's Lymphoma, a type of blood cancer... how... how bad is it?"

Niles reached out for her hand and took it in his. He knew this particular part of the conversation was hard for her.

"It's stage three, but I have a good prognosis. The 10 year survival rate is 80%."

"And how much longer are you going to receive chemotherapy?" Fran asked, scooting closer to the producer. C.C. shifted to give her more room to sit, but in doing so her bandana fell from her head. Niles quickly went and fixed it, his touch being soft and gentle.

Both Sheffields were more than surprised with the tenderness with which Niles treated C.C.. They had seen them fight, insult and prank each other for years, but right now the butler was acting more like a concerned husband than an enemy turned friend. This made them wonder about the nature of his feelings for C.C.. It certainly wasn't the concern a person would display for just a friend.

"I still have three more months of chemo to go," C.C. heaved a sigh. She had been keeping something from Niles, and this looked like the time to reveal it. She hadn't wanted to tell him about it when they were alone – she wouldn't have tolerated the sorrow in his eyes. "I will also need a bone marrow transplant. However, yesterday I was told that... that none of my family members are a match. So, when the time comes, I'll have to go on the waiting list and hope for a donor to appear."

Her words made Niles feel like he had just been slapped.

"...What did you say?" he eventually managed, his hands dropping away from fixing her bandana.

"You heard me," C.C. replied quietly, looking down at her lap. She couldn't bear to look up and see him looking so afraid. But whether that was for her sake or his, she no longer knew. Not that she'd expect anyone to ask.

"I know, but I'd like you to repeat it," the butler said evenly.

He was trying to keep his voice level – he didn't want to yell at her at all; she was ill, and they weren't in the right place to start discussing anything so loudly, and he didn't want to upset her at all and make things worse. The words were just making him so afraid...waiting lists could take so long – what if there weren't any donors for a while? What if there was a shortage? Her saying that one could come too late was tearing him up inside – in his head and in his heart.

"I'll have to go on a waiting list for a bone marrow transplant," C.C. obliged him by repeating what she'd said. "Until a donor can be found for me, which could take any time at all."

It didn't sink in any further, like he'd been hoping it would. If it had done, it might have grounded him some more and he'd be able to come to terms with it.

But it just felt like another slap – cold, hard, and clear across the face.

Again, a deafening silence swelled in the room as dread seeped into everyone's pores, intoxicating their souls with the fear of C.C. not making it. And honestly, how could they not be scared? How could they not fear a bad outcome when her survival was now more uncertain than before? Besides, the woman was undergoing a painful treatment and to think it could all be in vain was heart-breaking in its own.

Both Maxwell and Fran suddenly felt very out of place. It was obvious that Niles and C.C. – whatever it was that was going on between them – had bonded and developed a close and special connection since he had started taking care of her, hence the sorrowful look in his eyes being so understandable. She had just dropped a bomb, and perhaps they needed some time alone to discuss it. Yes, they were her friends, but right now they didn't belong in that room.

"I... I think I am hungry, honey, and so is the baby," Fran said, patting her still flat stomach. "Can you take me down to the cafe?"

Husband and wife exchanged a look and nodded approvingly. "Sure thing, sweetheart. We'll be back in a while."

But neither C.C. nor Niles were listening. They barely noticed when they were left alone, and C.C. – who had reached out for Niles' hand – could only brush her thumb against Niles' knuckles. She didn't exactly know why she was doing it, but ever since Niles had started visiting her having physical contact with him made her feel incredibly better. Not that she'd confess it, but she sometimes wished Niles would lie by her side and hold her until she fell asleep.

"Was everyone in your family tested?" Niles asked, still not looking at her.

"Everyone."

Niles heaved a sigh, reminding himself not to cry in front of her. He was so terrified... so afraid of not being able to see her survive this thing. It was not fair, really, she didn't deserve what she was going through.

"We'll just have to hope for a donor to appear. I mean, lots of people donate bone marrow, let's try to stay hopeful," she said in a soft voice, although part of her knew she was only saying it so she could convince herself.

Niles, meanwhile, had felt an idea slipping into his mind. If anyone could donate, then so could he! Maybe, if they were lucky, he could be a match and save her. He'd have to see about getting information on it, of course. He could do that just before he left, after the doctor came in to tell him that visiting hours were over. He'd barely heard what the Sheffields had said as they'd left, but he knew they wouldn't leave entirely without him, so he could probably ask someone before going back to the mansion.

He could at least be tested. If it gave her a chance, then he'd do it.

Not that he'd tell her! It wasn't exactly the kind of thing that would make her leap into his arms and declare him her hero. No, she'd still only probably see some "pity" aspect to it, and he didn't want to make her uncomfortable by revealing that to her. Well, it was more than that – she could very well be angry, if she felt it was too much of an intrusion. But he wasn't planning on telling her. If it worked, then they could celebrate, and he might consider changing his mind over revealing who helped, if some time passed and it became clear that the knowledge wouldn't upset her. And if it didn't work and they weren't a match, then that was that. They'd wait for an actual donor, and C.C. would never have to be any wiser that he'd even tried.

"Yes," he replied lamely, trying very hard to keep the same expression with his new idea in his head. He had to keep from looking at her, because he was afraid she'd see some sort of glint in his eye that told her he had an idea, and that would give the entire game away. "Let's try to be hopeful."

C.C. gave his hand a quick and not very hard squeeze, "Oh come on, Niles. We don't know that there aren't any donors out there yet! The perfect match for me might be closer than we think!"

She was trying to comfort him, now. It seemed almost ironic, given their positions right then. But on some level, she was right. A donor might be closer than she thought.

Whether or not he was the right match remained to be seen.

He schooled his emotions and looked down at her. She was smiling weakly, and right then Niles only wished to lean down and place a kiss on her forehead. She was trying to stay positive, to stay hopeful... it sometimes amazed him just how strong she was.

The Sheffields came back to the room a little while later, bringing some sweet treats for C.C., too. Given the delicate subject that had been discussed moments ago, they wordlessly agreed to put any important talks on hold for the time being. Instead, the two Sheffields entertained C.C. as best as they could – Fran by telling her about some bizarre family anecdote and Maxwell by discussing business with her. They agreed that C.C. could read some scripts and do some paperwork while she stayed at the hospital, which would surely keep her entertained for the time being.

Eventually, when Fran got worn out, the Sheffields made an early leave, promising to return the following day. Niles chose to stay behind, and he – as he usually did – read the first chapter of "Anna Karenina" to C.C.. She listened for a while, but by the end of the chapter she had dozed off. Niles closed the book, lowered it to his lap and looked down at the producer. How he cared for this woman…

He wished it hadn't taken a potentially fatal illness for him to do so, but he had finally decided to allow himself to acknowledge he was in love with her. He had known so for a while now, and in hindsight he could tell he had been in love with her before she had even been sick.

It truly was a shame that this had to happen for him to realise what he felt for her...

The butler took his fingers to her sunken cheek and brushed them against it. She seemed to like the contact for she smiled in her sleep and heaved an almost inaudible sigh of pleasure. The moment he stopped, however, the woman stirred and whimpered.

"No... don't stop... it feels nice," she protested.

By the drowsiness in her tone he could tell her meds were impairing her senses, she wouldn't normally ask for this, but he wasn't about to deny the comfort that this simple gesture provided.

"Okay, I won't stop if you don't want me to," he replied softly and resumed his caresses.

She smiled again, but it was short lived. She wanted more than just her hand against her cheek – she wanted him.

"Come here and hold me," the producer slurred her demand, tugging at his arm and weakly pulling him to her. "It makes me feel safe."

Niles's brow furrowed. Caressing her cheek with one hand was one thing, but actually holding her? She was in a state of confusion, after all – wouldn't it be considered taking advantage? How would they both feel if she didn't remember? Would she feel like he'd done something indecent if she found out? Could he live with himself if she did?

And yet...at the same time, all he wanted to do was give in to her request.

It wouldn't be so bad, would it? She had asked, after all, and it wasn't like he was going to do anything inappropriate. Just providing some comfort until she fell asleep, that was all. And if the doctor came in to tell him he couldn't, then he'd stop, and just sit with her until it was time for him to leave.

And it wasn't like him to miss an opportunity like this. She'd said being held by him made her feel safe – she wanted him close to her, and that caused a feeling not unlike the kind produced by uplifting music to fill his heart.

How could he deny her?

"Alright," he murmured, rising from his chair.

He collapsed the side of her bed so that he could get on, and C.C., in her drowsy state, shuffled over just enough for him to seat himself next to her. Being careful to not knock her IV, he wrapped his arms around her, and they lay back against the reclined head of the bed, in a close embrace.

"Comfortable?" he asked, using all of his willpower to stop himself from closing the gap between them and kissing her. He had to drive that thought from his head – she wasn't well, she was drowsy from her treatment, and he had to get a grip!

She nodded weakly. "Very. Thank you."

"You are most welcome. Try not to bite me when the full moon is up and you go through your change, though."

Well, he figured a little bit of teasing couldn't do any harm, now could it? It was, after all, their preferred method of communication. C.C. huffed a soft laugh and snuggled closer to him, resting her head on his chest, just over his heart. Niles couldn't help but to feel a warmth surging his body; knowing he made her feel same was incredibly humbling, and he was honoured that she felt that way about him when, until very recently, they had been at odds.

"I can't promise anything, Hazel, but a dog doesn't bite the hand that feeds her, and seeing as I need you here, I won't hurt you," she dropped a kiss – which made Niles' heart skip a beat – on his shirt-covered chest. "Just don't leave me, okay?"

"I won't."

"You promise it?" she insisted, her voice betraying her and letting him see just how afraid she was.

"I promise it."

His words brought her a sense of comfort and peace that soon lulled her into a tranquil sleep. It was like being hidden in a gigantic cocoon that smelled of cinnamon and his aftershave. And, by God, she was happy to be there.

Soon enough Niles' dozed off, too, and he was only awoken when he felt someone tapping his shoulder. He begrudgingly opened his eyes and found a smirking doctor Wilson staring at him. Well, at least he could talk to him about the transplant sooner than he had thought. His slow waking mind, however, took a little while to register the warm and frail presence lying by his side, but when it did, he blushed.

He looked rapidly between the doctor and the still sleeping C.C., "Uh..."

"Did we have a nice nap?" Wilson asked, raising one eyebrow, apparently trying to hold back laughter by biting the inside of his cheek.

"I...she asked me," the butler stammered quietly, taking one last look and making sure that C.C. hadn't woken up before gingerly disentangling himself from her and sitting up.

"I'm sure she was very persuasive," the doctor nodded in what Niles knew was a kind of condescending fashion.

He chose to ignore it, however, and rubbed his eyes, "What time is it?"

"Four thirty," Wilson said. "It's about time we start rounding you visitors up and shipping you out."

"Alright," Niles rose to his feet, still feeling heavy from sleep. He had been very comfortable there in that bed, with C.C., and his voice was tinged with disappointment.

Wilson frowned, "You'll just be back in here doing the same tomorrow anyway. She's a big girl, she can sleep on her own for a few hours."

The doctor then leaned in to stage whisper to him. "And, when things are looking up and she gets to go home, you can try the same thing in an actual double bed. Believe me, it's far easier without the IV in the way."

Niles would have given him a deadpan expression and a snarky comment about his bedside manner, but the mention of things looking up reminded him of what he wanted to ask.

"Speaking of things looking up, Doctor..." he swallowed. There was no going back. "I was just wondering, how exactly would a person go about becoming a bone marrow donor?"

The doctor, who had started to gently remove her IV, stopped and gave him a thoughtful look. The man wasn't expecting the question, that was obvious, but there was a glint in his eyes that suggested that he was more than pleased with his suggestion.

"I think this is a conversation you want to have in the privacy of my office, okay?" the oncologist said, gesturing towards the door. "I'll just take this IV out, and we'll talk about it. My office is in the second floor, ask Nurse Cameron and she'll take you to it."

Niles nodded and headed to the door. Just before he left, however, he gave one last glance at the sleeping woman; she looked so content in her sleep, so at peace... there was a smile on her face, and it made Niles feel warm inside knowing he had played a part on making her feel that way.

He made her feel safe, and this was probably the first time he had seen her sleep so well since he had started visiting her at the hospital. Of course the sight was spoiled by the knowledge the relief was only temporary – she'd start suffering from the painful side effects tomorrow – but it was better than anything.

"I'll be awaiting for you," Niles said and disappeared down the corridor.

He got to Dr Wilson's office in a few minutes, and he sat himself down on the chair before his desk. The office was really nice, it had a nice view of the gardens, was warm and nicely decorated, and the walls and shelves were decorated with trinkets he had gotten from his many patients. As he looked around, Niles noticed a file sitting on top of Wilson's desk; he sucked in a breath when he read the name written on it: C.C. Babcock.

He didn't even think about it, he leaned forward and started browsing through it. He didn't understand most of the things written in it, but he could more or less understand that she was getting slightly better. The knowledge was somewhat spoiled because he did also find pictures of C.C.. Those pictures had been taken as the treatment had progressed, and he could clearly see how C.C. had been weakened by her illness.

It didn't even really occur to the dominant part of his brain that doing this, going through a hospital medical file that wasn't his own, was wrong – snooping like this came naturally to him, after all. And each picture only engrossed him further, until he reached a point where it would have been impossible for him to put it back where he found it.

She had been so unwell – was still so unwell. But the file did say that she was slightly better than she had been...

He wondered how much his presence had to do with that, and the rest of him scolded his ego for even daring to bring it up. She was getting better for a lot of reasons – she was in a good hospital, for one thing, receiving the best treatment her money could pay for. Thinking it was down to him and his visits would be tantamount to taking away the importance of what the doctors were doing.

But the thought was still there, and the little voice in the back of his head protesting more than ever. Would she be this well if he wasn't there with her? Would she be opening up to others, and allowing them to care about her? Would she smile in her sleep, the way she had been when he'd left the room?

These were all questions he couldn't really answer. Not that he had the time to try and work them out, either – footsteps behind him told him Dr Wilson had arrived. He snapped the file shut and straightened up, looking expectantly at the doctor, who raised an eyebrow.

"I'd ask if I was interrupting, but I think I know what the answer would be. Not that it's not for you to be looking at anyway," the doctor said, edging round the side of his desk to take a seat as he slid the file back towards the space in front of him. "I'll let it slide this once, though. "Desperate times call for desperate measures" and all that. I know you're worried and that you want answers. Speaking of which, you said you wanted to see about becoming a bone marrow donor?"

Niles nodded, still feeling more than slightly embarrassed for having read her file. But he forced himself to keep his composure, he had to be focused for what was to come.

"Yes, I did."

"Why?" Wilson asked, taking a little ball that had been sat on the far edge of his desk in his hand.

"Because... I... I want to see if I can help her," he answered in a soft voice. For years he had put his efforts in making her life a nightmare, but right now the only thing he wanted was to protect her, to help her get better, and maybe this was a way of doing so.

"So she told you her family members weren't a match, am I correct?"

Niles nodded again.

"Alright. For starters, Mr Brightmore, we have to do some blood tests to check if you are a match. Once that is done and if you two happen to be compatible – which, I must warn you, is a rather small probability – then we schedule an ECG, and echocardiogram, and a CT scan. If those tests show you are a suitable donor then we move on to the next step."

"Which is...?" Niles interrupted. Dr Wilson gave him a look that clearly said to let him speak and not to interrupt him again.

"Then we wait. We have to remove your stem cells a few weeks before giving them to her. We have to wait until the chemo is over to do the transplant, so the procedure won't be done until four or five months from now. We'll give you local anaesthesia and insert both a syringe and a needle inside your hip bone and remove about 1 lt of bone marrow. You'll have to stay in the hospital for a few days and then it's done. Once your cells are conditioned, they'll be given to her. It's not a complicated process, but you will feel pain afterwards. It passes in a matter of weeks, though."

"Alright," Niles answered without hesitation. He'd already made up his mind about this – if it could save C.C., it had to at least be tried. He didn't like the thought of having to wait so long for anything to be done – from checking if he was a match to actually giving C.C. the transplant – and the idea of staying in the hospital wasn't what he had hoped for.

Although that was mostly because he wouldn't be able to come and see her, rather than anything else. She would wonder where he was. After learning that, in some way, she had come to enjoy and perhaps depend on his visits, leaving her all of a sudden would feel almost like a betrayal, even if it meant saving her. What would she think? Would she think he was too busy to see her? That something had happened to him? That he just simply didn't want to see her?

That last one especially wasn't true at all, but knowing how she could be sometimes, he decided he'd have to think up some excuse as to why he wouldn't be around for a few days. Something believable, too, so nothing like having to take a break away somewhere with the Sheffields – she knew he wouldn't go anywhere when she was in the hospital, and it was most likely the family wouldn't, either. He'd have to get them in on it, too, so that it was even more convincing. Hopefully whatever they decided on, it wouldn't worry C.C.. Extra anxiety was the last thing she needed at that moment in time, so making sure they all agreed on one story and didn't embellish it was a priority.

The doctor blinked at him, and sat back in his chair, "You seem awfully sure about this, Mr Brightmore. How much thought have you given it, exactly?"

"Enough," he replied almost instantly. Truth was he didn't need a lot of time to make up his mind. After all the pain she had gone through, he could make this small sacrifice.

"I am betting you decided this in the last five to six hours," the doctor stated, tossing the little ball he had in his hand to Niles, who caught it and threw it back at the doctor. "Nice reflexes, buddy."

"I used to be a volleyball player back when I was in university," Niles said as he caught the ball again. "But going back to the matter at hand, is there any possibility for my identity to remain private?"

Wilson arched a surprised eyebrow, but – if he was being honest with himself – perhaps his admission was not so surprising. "Why? You are helping save her! Don't you want her to know?"

Niles grimaced, fiddling with the ball in his hands. "I... I don't think she'd like it."

"Because she might feel you are pitying her, correct? And that might make our twisted little blonde refuse the transplant. So you are gonna be her silent hero."

Well... Wilson had summed it up. Yes, in an almost cliché way, he wanted to be her hero.

"Precisely."

The oncologist snorted out a laugh as he caught the ball Niles tossed at him. "Ah, the power of love – it makes us do stupid things without even thinking too much!" Wilson sighed exaggeratedly, never once stopping smirking. "And all for that special someone. How sweet."

"I am not in love with her," the butler said, his voice giving away he was lying. Of course he loved her, he knew so, but admitting it to anyone – much less to her doctor of all people – was the last thing he bad wanted to do.

However, he was aware there was no point in lying. Dr Wilson was an extremely perceptive man, and it was obvious he was not changing his mind even if he gave him a million excuses.

A moment of silence went past before Niles admitted defeat. "Is it that obvious?" he asked, rubbing his left temple.

"Let me put it this way, Nurse Cameron and I had a bet going about when you'd hold her as she slept. By the way, thank you very much, I just won 50 bucks."

Niles stopped rubbing his temple, and removed his elbow from the desk, slapping his palm down on his knee and leaning back a little in the chair.

"Do you bet on all your patients like this?"

"Only the interesting ones," the doctor replied, his attention on the ball as he turned it over in his fingers. "And the two of you are very interesting indeed. I don't think I've ever had a case where someone was so determined to do something like this for someone that they were clearly head-over-heels for, and yet asked to remain anonymous. I understand your reasons, of course, and they'll be honoured if you are found to be a match-"

"Thank you," Niles breathed out in relief. There had been a niggling fear in him that the doctor would tell him he wasn't allowed to remain nameless in this, seeing as he knew the patient.

The doctor gave him another warning look, as though daring him to interrupt again, and the butler thought twice before saying anything further as Dr Wilson continued, "But that's only 'if' you are found to be a match, Mr Brightmore. If you aren't, then I'd suggest you either tell Miss Babcock what you tried to do yourself, or let either me or Nurse Cameron tell her."

Niles didn't need time to think about it; he just shook his head, "I can't do that, and I don't see why I should let you, either. I know you are her doctor, but this is crossing into personal affairs."

Wilson smiled in an almost condescending manner. The oncologist was a man who had a certain superiority complex, everybody knew so, but the man was simply fascinated by the bizarre dynamic between this pair. Niles was completely in love with her – for Wilson it had been obvious because the butler carried his heart on his hand – and the doctor suspected that so was C.C.. Of course the woman was much harder to read, but the glint that shone in her eyes whenever Niles came gave it away.

Wilson had been treating C.C. for months now, and in the past month – coincidentally since Niles had begun to visit her – she had done an unprecedented recovery. She was still ill, not to get him wrong, but she had gotten a lot better, and he suspected it had to do with the butler.

Gregory loved crossing into personal affairs, and he had managed to do a brilliant move a few weeks ago. He had wanted to find the perfect moment to say it to Niles, and now it certainly looked like it. Wilson knew that for now he'd have to stop trying to make Niles confess his plan – it was obvious that the butler was determined to keep it a secret– but that didn't mean he couldn't devise a scheme to expose his 'heroic' actions.

"Ah, don't get your panties in a knot!" the doctor waved a dismissive hand. "But speaking of personal affairs... do tell me, Mr Brightmore, do you know who has Miss Babcock's medical power of attorney?"

"Her brother, of course," the butler replied. He remembered C.C. had told him so a few weeks ago.

The oncologist smirked as he grabbed some forms from his drawer. "Wrong! She changed it last Friday."

"And who–" Niles was cut off when Wilson handed him a little stack of papers, which he began to read in detail.

"Mr Babcock lives in Chicago, and although he does come to see her and has been extremely supportive, he is too far away," Wilson took a lollipop from his pocket, peeled off the wrapper and tossed the candy into his mouth. "Which could spell trouble if any last minute decisions have to be made! So, we agreed her medical power of attorney should be in the hands of someone who lives near her, someone who she trusts and who is involved in her treatment. So, Supermaid, guess who is gonna fill Noel's place?"

"What?!" Niles's eyes dropped to the forms, and began to scan for the crucial words that would confirm the doctor's words.

He had to look hard, and go through a couple of sheets before he found the evidence, but there it was – printed at the bottom, under "Medical Power of Attorney", was his full name. He let out a gasping breath, and as his shoulders slumped, the papers fell into his lap. Why had she done it? Not that there wasn't a part of him that was secretly thrilled she clearly trusted him so much, but did she really trust him that much? As much as he'd trust her in the same scenario?

After blinking at the pages for a few minutes, he brought his gaze back up slowly, catching the eye of Dr Wilson, who simply smirked back and continued enjoying his lollipop.

"I thought that might catch your attention," he said. "You make such a big deal out of not telling your not-girlfriend that you want to make this grand gesture for her, and yet here she is, quietly making her own gesture that she trusts you more than anybody else without telling you, either. Isn't it touching? God, I hope Lifetime make a movie out of this."

"Were you ever planning on telling me any of this?" Niles asked. "For professional reasons, I mean."

Dr Wilson shrugged, "If the need ever arose, I would have had to. I was sorta hoping C.C. would do it herself, though."

Niles gave the doctor a deadpan look. The man was clearly enjoying this, and now that he had the confirmation the two of them actually trusted and cared for each other, Niles suspected he'd see more of his antics.

He leaned back on his chair, still floored by her complete trust in him. Literally, he could – if C.C. wasn't able to – take the decision that made a difference between life and death, and it meant he had a say in her treatment, too. It was overwhelming, and the only thing he wanted to do was run back to her room and hug her – or better, kiss her until both of them were breathless.

C.C. Babcock trusted no one, and yet she had put her life in his hands without hesitation.

"So... what does this mean for me?" Niles asked, feeling somewhat lost and sensing his question might sound slightly foolish. "What is my role in all of this?"

"Well, you will be the one who decides what is to be done in case Miss Babcock is unable to do so herself," the doctor shrugged, tossing the ball from hand to hand. "It means you will be kept abreast of how her treatment is going, what drugs are being given to her and many other boring details."

Niles nodded, his eyes again reading over the legal document that made him responsible for C.C. if anything happened to her. Whenever he thought about it he felt like the room was devoid of oxygen.

"And this brings me to my second happy revelation," Wilson exclaimed, bringing the Englishman out of his musings. "As you are basically responsible for her, I decided to be a kind soul and, from now on visiting hours don't apply to you – you can stay as long as you want to. Usually that privilege is reserved for spouses, but seeing as you two are each other's not-special someone, I don't see why you can't stay. God, I have been watching too many soaps – I am becoming a sentimental idiot."

Niles nearly leapt out of his chair, "I...can stay? Really?"

Dr Wilson threw the ball onto a sofa in the corner of the room, and then removed the lollipop from his mouth and examined it - the boiled sweet wasn't much smaller. He then put it back in his mouth and leaned forward, his elbows on his desk.

"I don't see why not," he replied, shrugging. "As long as you don't get any ideas about making this vague thing you two have going on too official in the room – there are other people around, you know, and walking in on the pair of you sleeping is one thing, walking in on you specifically not sleeping is something else entirely. Besides, being hooked up to an IV and a heart rate monitor tends to kill the mood."

The butler shook his head; the thought of anything like that at that moment, before he and C.C. had really had a chance to discuss what they were truly feeling, and with her still in the hospital, was completely out of the question.

"Of course not," he said. "I just want to make sure she gets well again. Anything else, well...that can be talked about later. For now, I just intend to stay with her for as long as possible, so I'll see about making some arrangements with my employer."

"Atta boy," Dr Wilson rose from his chair, and Niles stood up with him. "But before you run off and do that, why don't we stop in on our favourite blonde again? You can tell her the good news. If you want, I'll even wait outside so the two of you can have your little moment and you won't be interrupted by me slipping into a diabetic coma."

Niles rolled his eyes at Wilson, who had a mocking smirk plastered to his features. "With the amount of lollipops you consume, it's a wonder you haven't slipped into one as it is," the butler retorted, following the doctor out of his office and heading in the direction of C.C.'s room.

"Careful, Romeo, or I will tell your feisty version of Juliet about you plan," Wilson pointed his lollipop at him in a warning manner.

Niles groaned. This ammo was gold for the oncologist, and he was going to milk it for all its worth. He supposed that, seeing as C.C. was sick, he couldn't blackmail his own patients, but he had no qualms about blackmailing their loved ones.

It was basically one of the ways in which he had fun during his long shifts at the hospital.

"Fine, I'll admit defeat," the butler said. "At least for now."

"Excellent! And remember, I still want that chocolate cake I won this afternoon, are we clear?"

"Crystal," the butler nodded, and both men continued their way in silence. The hospital was nearly deserted at that time – visitors were gone and most patients were having dinner – and Niles took the time to think about the information he had just been given.

C.C. trusted him... the woman whose life he had once been determined to ruin, thought he was the most suitable person to decide her fate if she was unable to do so herself. It was a crushing responsibility, but it humbled him that she had chosen him over every other person in her life – including the man she had until not so long pined after.

It was obvious to him that whatever feelings the blonde had for Maxwell were gone, and it made him wonder if, as Dr Wilson seemed to believe, she now had developed feelings for him instead. The idea of C.C. returning his feeling was enough to make his heart burst, but analysing her feeling was not the priority now.

She had to get well, and until then, he'd remain by her side as just her friend.

Niles was suddenly brought out of his musings when he heard a loud crash coming from her room. He exchanged a quick look of worry with Wilson and the two rushed into the room, calling her name.

"Babcock wha-" Niles trailed off, relief washing over him. She had simply tried to get up and had accidentally dropped her meal to the floor.

Now the plate was completely broken, and the floor was covered in mashed potatoes and steak, but she was ok – at least physically. Judging by her expression he could tell she was mortified.

"What happened here?" Wilson asked, helping C.C. back to her bed. "Why were you up? You know you have to rest after the chemo!"

"I... I just wanted to use the toilet and I..." her voice trembled, "I slipped... or rather, my knees gave out and grabbed onto the first thing I could – which happened to be my table – and I... I... the plate... it fell and..." the woman trailed off as she fumbled with her hands. She was ashamed, it seemed she couldn't even go to the toilet by herself! Which made her feel completely useless...

Niles immediately rushed to her side and helped Dr Wilson put the producer back to bed, seating himself next to her and taking her hand in his, using the other hand to gently rub her back. He knew she'd be feeling angry with herself – for breaking the plate, wasting the food, apparently not being able to complete a simple task like going into another room by herself like any other healthy adult, as well as probably a whole myriad of other reasons – but he was going to do his best to try and quell the frustration, even if he couldn't make it go away completely.

Meanwhile, Dr Wilson had moved to the other side of the bed, stepping over what remained of the dinner, and pressed the call button. Nurse Cameron soon came, bringing with her an orderly, as they had heard the crash from down the corridor and seen on the monitors that C.C.'s heart rate had increased and wondered what could possibly have gone on in the room.

They insisted that C.C. remain where she was while they cleaned up, as she was barefoot, and getting to the bathroom could prove difficult if there were shards of china littering the floor.

The producer wanted to protest – she was a grown woman, who should be able to get up and go to the damn bathroom by herself without everyone constantly worrying over her. But she knew that would do her no good, and Niles being so close right then was making her feel oddly better. When she looked up at him from her lap, he gave her a small smile.

He was probably trying to reassure her that it was going to be okay, which was a comfort, really.

"Don't worry about breaking the plate, it happens all the time," Nurse Cameron wiped up the last of the spilled food, and tossed the cloth in the laundry hamper by the door. "We'll order another plate for you. We can't have you going without, even for one evening."

C.C. shrugged, just making sure to the nurse that she had heard her. She wasn't in the mood to eat – both because of the meds and because she just didn't feel like it after making a fool of herself in front of everyone.

She leaned against Niles, relishing in his soft touch as he enveloped her shoulders with his arm. He knew she was upset, and was doing what he did best: supporting her. It was amazing how well he knew what was going on inside her mind, and now that he had become her support system, she found she was willing to let him in. She trusted him, and it was obvious he was worthy of that trust.

Nurse Cameron helped her put her slippers on and then – after insisting she didn't need help – the producer stood up and carefully made her way to the bathroom. It was nice to be up after having spent the day in bed, but she quickly got worn out, to the point of feeling like she had run a marathon instead of walking to the bathroom and then back to her bed.

By the time she came back, another nurse – whose name C.C. couldn't remember– was placing a new tray with food on the table by her bed. This time she was given chicken with salad instead of steak, and she was kind of thankful for the change; she loved chicken, and it made forcing herself to eat slightly easier.

Niles helped her back to bed as soon as he realised she was tired, and he then got her comfortable so she could eat without problems.

Dr Wilson observed the butler and his not-girlfriend in amusement, exchanging knowing looks with the butler every now and then. It was obvious that these two had feelings for each other, but it seemed it was them who had yet to realise it was mutual.

"Well, now that we've solved that," Wilson pointed at the remnants of her other meal that were being taken away by Nurse Cameron. "I have some news for you! So, don't you notice anything strange here?"

C.C.'s face scrunched up in confusion as she looked around. There was nothing out of the ordinary...

"You mean apart from the fact you are not being your usual asshole self?" she teased, causing her oncologist to frown and eliciting a chuckle from Ni-

And then it hit her! What was Niles doing there?! Visiting hours had ended almost an hour ago! Her gaze travelled to the butler, and her doctor smiled, realising she had finally figured it out.

"What are you still doing here?" she asked Niles, who had seated himself on the armchair at her bedside.

"Well, I actually kind of have you to thank for that," the butler began to explain, leaning on the arm of the chair closest to her. "You did give me medical power of attorney, after all."

C.C. swallowed, glancing quickly at Dr Wilson, who smirked back. She gave him an unimpressed look, before turning to face Niles again.

"Yeah, but Noel had that, too. And he didn't stay after hours."

"Maybe I should just cut in and explain," the doctor suddenly piped up, causing both butler and producer to start and look towards him as he collapsed on the sofa, arms outstretched and one leg crossed over the other in a very comfortable but also horrendously smug-looking way. "I thought, seeing as the two of you were obviously so...comfortable with each other, waiving visiting hours and allowing Mr Brightmore to stay for as long as he liked wouldn't be a problem."

Niles looked into her eyes – the producer saw hope there. Was it hope? Was he really that desperate to stay with her? Not having visiting hours meant that he could stay for as long as he wanted, or all night, if he so chose. They could have meals together, read more than just a chapter or so of a book a day...she could ask him to hold her again as she fell asleep...

"As long as it's alright with you," he said quietly. "Is it alright if I stay?"

He had almost said _"Do you want me to stay?"_ , but felt that that might be backing her into a corner too much. He held his breath as he waited for her answer.

The producer was looking at him with an expression that he couldn't quite read. She was surprised, that much he could tell, but he couldn't say much apart from that...

If anything, she didn't look displeased – far from it, in fact. Eventually, after a few anguishing and ridiculously long seconds had passed, the edges of her mouth curled into a smug smile of her own.

He could almost feel his heart flutter.

"I shouldn't have expected less from you," C.C. said, reaching out for his hand and giving it a tight squeeze. "Dogs are very loyal, after all. I guess as long as you don't howl to the moon during the night, then you can stay."

He had to make a gargantuan effect to both hide his immense happiness underneath an unimpressed look and to refrain from simply taking her in his arms and kissing her.

"I thought howling at the moon was your thing. Isn't that what werewolves do during the full moon?" he retorted as his thumb brushed her knuckles.

"You know, you should try to update you repertoire, Hazel, it's getting rather repetitive," the producer resumed her meal, although she didn't let his hand go – he didn't mind it, either.

There was something soothing about his touch, and – although at first she had tried to resist it – she had decided to allow herself to enjoy it. C.C. simply wanted to make the best of her stay at the hospital, and certainly being held by Niles made things a lot better. She didn't understand what she felt for him, and part of her purposely avoided thinking about it, but she wasn't about to refuse his support when it made her a world of good. Life was short and unpredictable, and seeing as she had a life-threatening condition, it would be stupid not to enjoy it while she could.

"My repertoire is not repetitive. You are an endless source of inspiration, Babcock."

"I swear this is like watching one of those Animal Planet documentaries!" Wilson interrupted.

Both blonde heads snapped up as he spoke, C.C.'s hand raised with a forkful of chicken half-way to her mouth. The doctor was sat on the sofa with his elbows on his knees, chin resting in his hands, staring at them intently. His eyes darted back and forth between them.

"What?" he asked. "Did I interrupt your flow?"

Niles shook his head softly, turning back to C.C. with a smirk, "No. I'd be inclined to agree – they do have a show or two on there about people training dogs, right?"

"You'd better watch yourself, especially when it comes to siding with Chuckles the Medical Clown over there, otherwise I'll change my mind about letting you stay," the producer pointed at Wilson and then at Niles with her fork warningly. "And yet again, I have to tell you that your repertoire is getting as old as you are. If you can't move on from the dog jokes, I don't see you winning any of our little word games any time soon. Not that that bothers me."

Niles barely concealed a smirk with his unimpressed look, "I'll move on from the dog jokes when they stop being funny, how about that?"

C.C. scraped up a forkful of salad, "They stopped a long time ago, Hazel. Before you even got your oven-mitts on 'em, which must have been about the same time as the Civil War. And the English Civil War, at that. Tell you what, though, if you go see Maxwell and Nanny Fine about staying here, the sooner you get back, and the sooner we can start fixing you up with some new vocab. Who knows, you might actually become funny one of these days."

"She got you good several times there, buddy," Dr Wilson chimed in.

The producer indicated to the proctologist with her head, "It comes in useful when this one's around."

Niles didn't even attempt to hide his amusement. The woman was clearly in a good mood, and that was a good sign. Yes, she was exhausted after a long treatment but her spirits were high, and small part of him suspected it was all thanks to him.

He still couldn't quite believe she had allowed her to stay; in a sense he had been afraid that she'd say no, so having her permission to accompany her like he wanted to was simply heavenly. He'd take all the insults and smart cracks if it meant that she'd get better sooner.

Dr Wilson soon left the room, leaving the two of them alone for the first time that night. She ate in silence – mostly because she just wanted to finish her dinner and go to sleep – but she never let go of his hand.

The last thing spoken before they went to sleep – although this time Niles actually took the sofa – were two faint goodnights, both of them filled with wonder and relief. They had each other, and nothing could go wrong.

* * *

 **AN: Hello! Here you have two more chapters, we hope you enjoy them! As usual we'd appreciate your reviews, they are what keeps us motivated!**

 **H &L**


	9. Chapter 9

**_Chapter 9_**

 ** _The Reunion_**

It wasn't a good day. That much the producer knew.

It had started really well, actually, but it had gone downhill faster than she had thought possible. C.C. remembered she had woken up to find Niles fast asleep on the sofa, nestled under the pink blanket she usually used to cover her legs during her chemo sessions. A warm sense of peace had washed over her when she had laid eyes on his sleeping form – he looked happy in his sleep, peaceful, and she wondered if this had been the most sleep he had gotten since she had gone into the hospital. It was becoming progressively evident to her that Niles truly cared for her, his every action denoted so – he had visited her almost every day, he read to her, he brought the food she liked and new forms of entertainment and now… now he'd also stayed the night.

Niles was there for her, and it felt good. The sensation of being taken care of was certainly very new, but very welcome.

However, her tranquil musings hadn't lasted for long. The side effects had kicked in even before she'd had the chance to eat breakfast.

First came the nausea, then the feeling of having been ran over by a truck, and finally, the dreaded neuropathy had made its appearance. The searing pain was as terrible as ever, but for some reason, that day she hadn't been able to resist it like she usually did. She had screamed for painkillers and a hot bath, but not even those two things had helped her. The pain had calmed down a bit, not to get her wrong, but she was simply not coping.

Niles' presence had been a blessing, honestly – the butler had been trying to distract her all morning and had allowed her to squeeze his hand whenever a new wave of pain hit her, but in the end, the pain had been so intense that she had begged him to just hold her, like he had done yesterday.

 _And that had made the trick..._

Being in his embrace had mitigated the side effects – not to mention just how safe and at home she felt. Had she not been so focused in her pain, she would have questioned exactly why Niles made her feel that way, but right then she could only hold him for dear life as she waited for the worst to pass.

The killing blow, however, had come when she'd turned on the TV. Much to her surprise, there were reports of her being sick with cancer on every news channel, and the press was going crazy with the terrible fate of the feared Broadway producer once known as The Bitch of Broadway.

The paparazzi had been wondering what had happened to her since she had disappeared, but she had been able to cover her tracks back then. Apparently, Maxwell hadn't. The paparazzi had spotted him when he came to visit her, and they had discovered everything thanks to the Sheffields' carelessness.

Noel had soon called her to warn her that both her mother and father were on their way to the hospital, and Nurse Cameron had come into the room to inform them a black limo had just stopped at the entrance – B.B. Babcock had arrived.

It was a matter of minutes until her mother burst into her room, and she was dreading it already.

Niles had asked if she wanted him to move, to sit on the sofa, but she had refused. Right then she needed him by her side, especially if her parents were coming.

"It will be alright," he repeated for the tenth time in the last five minutes. "I am here with you."

"I know," C.C. mumbled back, shrinking into his embrace and wishing she could become so small that her mother wouldn't see her when she came into the room and she could just hide in Niles' arms. Better yet, she wished that Maxwell had kept his mouth shut, the press weren't right outside the hospital, and that none of her family were on their way. She didn't need it. Not today. All she needed right then was for the man who was holding her to not stop providing the comfort he was giving by being so close. Luckily, that seemed to be the one thing that was going right for her that day. Something in her heart told her that the armies of Hell could have been descending upon the place, and even then Niles wouldn't have let go.

Well, they kind of were, in a way. And their war drums sounded like the clicking of Chanel heels.

For want of a hospital member of staff to actually formally announce her arrival, as she might have demanded if it were possible, B.B. Babcock swept into the room without knocking, or even a proper greeting. As soon as she saw Niles, however, she stopped dead in her tracks.

"Maxwell Sheffield's butler?" the socialite raised an eyebrow, her voice stammering slightly as though she were surprised to find him in such a place, and looking back towards the door. "I must have the wrong room. I was looking for Chastity-Claire's-"

"I am right here. Hello, Mother," C.C. said weakly, making to sit up properly so that she was more visible, and keeping herself calm in the knowledge that Niles was right there next to her and wasn't going anywhere, even if he might want to in the next few moments when the realisation hit B.B..

If the shock of finding him in a hospital for wealthier clientele hadn't been enough for B.B., finding her daughter in his embrace on a hospital bed certainly was, Niles surmised. The woman's mouth fell open in what she would have probably termed uncouth in other, lesser mortals, and she staggered back a few paces.

"C.C..." her voice was barely above a whisper, and it was horrified.

There was some part of both of them that wanted to believe her horror was caused by how ill her daughter looked. But at the same time, they suspected that wouldn't be the case. A servant in C.C.'s bed like this probably was a higher priority than a potentially fatal disease to her.

"A servant...you!" the older woman pointed at Niles, and then gestured wildly to the corner of the room. "Unhand my daughter at once! How dare you take advantage of her unwell state! Remember your place and stand away from her this instant!"

Niles was seething. How dare she imply he had taken advantage of C.C.?! How dare she even think he'd do so to a woman who was clearly gravely ill?! But he had to school his emotions – this was B.B. Babcock, C.C. had told him to expect this kind of comments from her, and he was not about to start arguing with her mother when C.C. was in pain and needed him to hold her. He was staying right where he was until C.C. said otherwise.

The producer, who didn't really have much strength to begin with, forced herself to sit up and look at her mother in the eye. C.C. was seething, too; she was not going to tolerate B.B. badmouthing a person who had only worried about her wellbeing.

"He will stay right where he is, Mother!" the producer glowered.

B.B. gasped in horror, one of her hands clutching at her heart. "Chastity-Claire Babcock! How dare you allow a domestic in your bed! I thought I had taught you not to mix with the lower orders!"

Niles felt C.C. flinch, and – much to his amusement– the younger woman simply snuggled closer to him. He supposed it was both to irk her mother and because she was in pain. He could tell so by the way she whimpered the moment she rested her body against his.

"Mother, shut up, will you?! I am in pain, I weight 89 lbs, have lost all my hair, I have a fucking illness that could kill me… and the only thing you care about is who is in my bed?! Give me a break! This wonderful man has been helping me, has seen me at my worst and has never done something so foul as taking advantage of me! Can't you let me have this? Can't you, for once, get your big head out of your selfish ass and think of how I am feeling and what I need?! I can't believe that you–" C.C. trailed off, a new wave of pain was surging her body; it was almost unbearable, and she could only emit a loud cry and hold onto Niles for dear life as she waited for it to pass. It was truly hell, but Niles was there – a rock in the middle of the storm.

"It's alright, it's alright," Niles murmured, rubbing her back soothingly. "Breathe with me and hold my hand. It will be over soon."

C.C. could only do as she was told, praying that he was right. Tears were pricking at the corner of her eyes, but as soon as she focused in breathing and his hand wrapped hers, the pain seemed to slowly ebb away. She tried to listen to the beating of his heart, to focus on the even thumping noise that brought so much comfort to her...

And it slowly passed... she slowly felt like she could breathe again.

Had either of them been looking at the older socialite they would have noticed the effect C.C.'s words had had on her. There was a strange glint in her eyes, one that hadn't been there before, and she was looking at the butler with new eyes. The softness with which he held her child, the – dare she say it? – love so easily heard in his words that were clearly helping her daughter through her pain...

She had been mistaken about him.

Not to get her wrong, she was still very much against the idea of her daughter having anything to do with the butler, but now... seeing just how much she was hurting and how obviously ill she was, she truly couldn't come up with any good reasons to take away the man who obviously made her a world of good.

B.B. had never been an involved parent, nor had she'd wished to be one, but C.C. was still her daughter, and there was something terribly painful and soul-piercing about witnessing her usually slender and powerful daughter being reduced to skin and bones and going through a treatment that was clearly unbearable.

Slowly, almost sheepishly, she approached her daughter, feeling her own eyes moistening when C.C. cries reached her ears as she sat on the edge of her bed. She reached out, took her child's hand in hers and held it. It felt strange and awkward, but she figured that's something a mother should do.

What she was sure about, however, was that no parent should witness their child go through this torture, and for the first time in years, Barbara Beatrice Babcock felt afraid – afraid and heart broken.

C.C. was her daughter, and no matter how estranged they were, she was still her mother.

"Does it hurt that much?" she asked faintly, something in her aching as her daughter winced again and actually gripped her hand. Maybe for the first time ever.

"Like you wouldn't believe," C.C. gasped, and Niles made soft shushing noises. B.B. felt the other two shift on the bed, and knew that the butler was holding her daughter closer.

He looked over the top of C.C.'s head at the older woman, and although there was no warmth for her presence there in his eyes – she knew her eyes would portray a similar emotion, so she expected as much – there was a tenderness that she could tell was reserved for the younger woman sat between them, and the understanding and acceptance that he seemed to display in his features told her that she was allowed to stay, as long as her comments were kept to herself. That was probably for the best, even if her breeding told her that she should send for someone to forcibly remove Niles from the room for being anywhere near C.C..

But the way her daughter had so defiantly gotten closer to the man, and defended him openly...it was obvious that the producer would do everything possible to prevent the butler from going anywhere, weak as she was. It may have only been a few minutes at the most, but B.B. could already tell that something about this man made her daughter happy, safe, and comfortable.

That didn't mean she'd accept him for longer than she needed to. No. They were still a Babcock and a servant, after all. She'd just argue about propriety when the time was more right – when C.C. was well enough and didn't need him anymore. That's what servants were for, after all; to come when they were called, do as required, and then go when that business was concluded.

When C.C. was well, safe, comfortable, and happy on her own again. Then she would remind them both of their places.

But for now, all that mattered was the first part.

"I... I am so sorry... Kitten," the older woman said timidly. Most people thought Stewart was the only one who called their child by that nickname, but – back when C.C. was a young girl – she used to call her that way, too. The older woman didn't exactly know what to do now, it had been years since she had spent more than 10 minutes with any of her kids, so she was clueless.

Should she say something? Maybe she wanted her to simply hold her hand? Or maybe she wanted her to talk? It was a puzzlement.

There was, however, one doubt that was assaulting her. Why hadn't she told them about her illness? Why had she confided in a servant instead of her parents? Why had Noel not said anything?

What was C.C. afraid of?

"C.C., why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell your father?" the older woman asked, softly brushing her thumb against her daughter's knuckles.

"I... I... dear Jesus Christ..." C.C. winced again, griping her mother's hand. She knew that the pain would eventually ebb away, bit by bit, but damn did it hurt...

The older woman scooted closer, worry written all over her features. She took her other hand to C.C.'s and simply held it.

"Can't they give her anything for the pain?" B.B. asked Niles. The butler was far more calmed – this wasn't his first rodeo, after all – and he gloomily shook his head.

"They've already given her painkillers this morning. Her doctor is now looking for something stronger to give her, we just have to wait until he arrives."

"And how long will this man take?" B.B. looked down at her daughter again. "They can't let her suffer... not like this."

"There is nothing else we can do, Mother, we have to wait," C.C. cut in. "And as for your first question, why don't we wait for Daddy to arrive? I truly don't want to explain this twice."

B.B. nodded, not wanting to pressure her daughter into doing anything right now. Besides, she had spoken to Stewart moments before she'd arrived to the hospital. If her calculations were correct, the man was probably about to arrive.

"Of course, Kitten. Do you need anything?"

"Just... shut up... both of you. I need silence, I need to rest," the producer closed her eyes, allowing her mother to remain holding her hand. "I need to rest before talking with Daddy."

"Alright," her mother nodded. "Take all the time you need."

She watched, still holding her daughter's hand, as C.C. turned over slightly towards Niles, and rested with her head tucked under his chin. B.B. tried not to be openly offended by her doing this – the butler had already proven himself a comfort, and was holding her when she walked in, after all. It was only natural she'd want to return to a comfortable position as soon as possible.

The more she watched them, the more the pair of them looked tired. More tired than B.B. had seen anyone before. Having grown and lived entirely in a world where people didn't become unwell – not this unwell, anyway, not that anyone saw – and never got more tired than a long day of socialising and enjoying the comforts that money could provide would make a person, seeing a kind of tiredness that seemed to seep in further than their bones was more than unnerving.

Money couldn't do anything here. Not really. Granted, it could support the treatment, but the suffering in the meantime was something that only time and care could take away.

Care that Niles seemed to be providing. He rested his head so delicately on top of her daughter's, like he was afraid that he would be too much for her frail form to take at that moment. He didn't speak, just as C.C. asked, and allowed her the peace she had requested before anyone else turned up and started expecting answers to difficult questions.

And it was a difficult question, even B.B. knew that. But C.C. had always had her reasons for everything she did, and was more determined than anything once she'd set her mind on something, so she would have an explanation for not telling either of her parents about this. And no doubt she had asked Noel to keep quiet. The two of them had always had a very close bond, from what B.B. had seen, and he would have honoured his word by not telling, either.

The peace was soon interrupted, however, by the sound of footsteps growing closer outside, in the corridor. All three people in the room glanced up at the doorway as a worried voice announced the arrival of C.C.'s father.

"Kitten!"

Both Niles and C.C. sat back up again – the latter had to be helped by both her mother and Niles – to receive her father. B.B. didn't even look at her ex-husband, she was still too caught up in watching over her daughter, like she had done the first few days after she had been born and before she was handed to Nanny Bobo.

Niles, meanwhile, stood up from the bed – but only after making sure C.C. was comfortable and supported by a mound of pillows – giving room for Stewart to sit. The latter was still standing at the doorway, though, mouth agape and unable to move.

Niles had last seen the man four years ago, back when C.C. was still healthy and when the older man had taken her to Barbara Streisand's concert. He remembered C.C. had been delighted by her father spending time with her, but the two Babcocks had not seen each other again since then – except last thanksgiving, though, which had been spent at Stewart's mansion.

The man looked positively destroyed – his eyes were frantically scanning the frail body that belonged to his daughter and Niles could hear his breath hitch with every step he took towards his youngest child, which he eventually reached. He sat down carefully, as though fearing any brusque movement would shatter his child.

"Oh my God... Kitten..." Stewart almost whispered, taking her other hand in his. He couldn't help but to cry... he had never imagined there would come a day when he'd see his daughter, his strong and beautiful C.C., in such a deplorable state. Everything about her – her appearance, the look in her eyes, her mood – was a hard proof of her illness, and Stewart felt like he had just been punched in the stomach.

"Hello, Daddy," C.C. finally said, giving her father's hand a tight squeeze. "I am sorry you found about this."

"No, darling, don't be," B.B. cut in, drawing the producer's attention to her. "We are your parents, after all. We should know about this."

Stewart gave an approving nod. "We are supposed to support you through this, you know? Why... why didn't you tell us? Why did you hide?"

"Because...because I thought I was strong enough to handle this on my own," the producer sighed, avoiding looking at her parents. "I...I thought no one would care enough to want to help, or if anything happened to me. So I resolved to see it through by myself."

Niles studied the look on Stewart's face carefully, and saw the older man's previously determined face crumble into one of sorrow.

"C.C.! Why would you possibly think that we don't care, sweetheart?" his voice was more than tinged – more like permeated – with hurt. "We are your parents. We love you, and we want you to be well, and to be happy."

"That's right," B.B. said. "You are our priority."

"You really mean that?" C.C. asked, frowning softly. "I haven't felt like it. Between Daddy not seeing me for all that time after promising to try to do more together and Mother jetting off around the world whenever the mood suited, I-"

C.C. stopped, wincing as one last jolt of pain shot through her. Niles stepped towards her, ready to reach out, and her parents made to hold her, but C.C. raised a hand to stop them, and they all held back so she could finish, breathing deeply and slowly to keep herself calm and endure the pain.

"I guess I just felt like maybe it didn't really mean anything after all," she said, barely holding herself together from what the butler could see. "That I didn't mean anything. And that if no one really cared about me, then I should just learn to deal with it and carry on without anyone's help. The only person I thought I was a priority for was me."

Now it wasn't just Stewart's face crumbling – both parents were falling apart, the result of their choices regarding their children feeling like a punch in the face. How had they reached the point of their own daughter thinking she was better off alone? How on Earth had they allowed this to happen?

Had they been more attentive, had they been true to their word and actually worry for her she wouldn't have shut them out and this pain would have never existed. They were hurting because their child, their precious child, might or might not be dying and also because her having to face her treatment alone had been a decision she had taken as a consequence of their actions as her parents.

Not being able to tolerate it any longer, Stewart reached out for C.C. and carefully enveloped her in a hug. He then pulled B.B. in, too, not really caring the woman was his ex-wife – she didn't care, either. They were all falling apart, and perhaps this was the moment to join efforts and try to hold each other together.

"We are so sorry," B.B. said, starting to cry as both Stewart and C.C. were doing. "We are so terribly sorry."

"Kitten... I... we do love you. You are a priority, and that will never change," Stewart took a moment to take a deep breath and drop a kiss on his child's forehead. "I know you might not believe our promises now – and I certainly don't blame you – but you'll no longer be alone."

"I haven't been alone," the producer replied. "Niles and Noel had both been there for me. Niles in particular."

Stewart momentarily turned to the butler, who had sat down on the sofa near her bed. He had silently observed the scene as it had unfolded, and there was a part of him that swelled with pride whenever C.C. mentioned he was helping her. She needed him, and he was glad she trusted him enough to let him in.

Stewart attempted a smile. In truth he wanted to run to the man and hug him, he wanted to thank him for having taken care of his child, but right now he couldn't bring himself to leave C.C.'s side.

"And he will remain here for the rest of my treatment," the producer finished, carefully lying back down again. Stewart and B.B. both helped her get comfortable before they retook their places and each took a hold of one of her hands.

"And what are they treating you for?" B.B. asked. "We don't know what type of ca..." the socialite gulped, not being able to even say the word. "The type of cancer you have."

Both parents shuddered, and their grip on C.C.'s hands tightened.

"She has Hodgkin's Lymphoma," a sudden, fourth voice said from the doorway. "First things first, I am Gregory Wilson, your daughter's oncologist," Dr Wilson stepped into the room and took a seat next to Niles. "As I was saying, she has stage three Mixed Cellularity Classic Hodgkin's Disease and has yet to go through three more months of chemo. Then she will receive a bone marrow transplant, for which she has yet to find a match. Your eldest son managed to trick you into getting some blood tests a while ago – I believe Noel told you he needed the blood samples for an investigation a colleague of his was conducting – and don't even bother asking, none of you is a match."

"Part of me wants to have words with our boy for doing that to us," Stewart pulled a face. "We were mere steps away from finding this all out sooner. But, at the same time, I get that he had his reasons – you have a good brother, Kitten. He certainly keeps to his word when you ask him to."

"That he does," C.C. agreed. "...After all this, I feel a little weird for not telling you all for so long."

"Don't, sweetheart; you told us eventually," Stewart reassured her. "And now that we know both that you're here and how you've been feeling for so long, we can start doing something about it. You don't have to worry about your parents not being around anymore, Kitten."

"Not in the slightest," B.B. gave a small smile, patting her daughter's hand lightly.

C.C. felt a little shocked to see this happen, really. She had never seen her parents agree so much over anything. When she had been growing up, if they had been in the same room together, it would usually be to argue over something, and then one or the other would come and try to placate the watching children by offering them expensive gifts.

Not that any of those gifts seemed to hold any weight now, for all their prestige and monetary value – not when her parents were right there, offering love and togetherness instead.

"And we're going to start coming to visit regularly," Stewart glanced quickly at his ex-wife, and then back over towards where the doctor was sat. "And we're going to be kept updated on your progress, and any news about finding a donor."

"Of course you will. However, I must cut this reunion short; it's time for my patient to take a nap," Wilson said, walking towards her IV.

"Finally," the producer sighed. She knew what the doctor meant by _'taking a nap'_ – he was going to administer her some morphine. She had been reluctant to recur to that particular drug, but the pain had become almost unbearable – she needed a nice drug-induced sleep that would allow the worst to pass while being blissfully asleep.

Niles knew how she felt, too. He didn't exactly like it, either, but after seeing her suffer week after week and after realising this was not a rushed decision, he had resolved to accept her choice without protest.

"What are you giving her?" B.B. asked, craning forward to observe what the doctor was doing.

"Something that will ease the pain, and consequently will also make her feel sleepy," Wilson said as he administered the drug. "You can all stay, but she won't be awake for long."

"We are staying," Stewart said, tightening his grip on C.C.'s hand. "When do visiting hours end?"

"Well, for you two," the oncologist pointed at the two older Babcocks in the room. "At 5:30 o' clock. For him," he gestured towards Niles. "There is no limit."

"What?! You mean a ser-" B.B. stopped herself before saying the word she knew would get her kicked out of C.C.'s room. She cringed when she realised she had to treat a servant as her equal, but being with her daughter was more important than putting the butler in his place. "... You mean he can stay? Why?"

"Well, I can clearly see why you two didn't get the award of 'Parents of the Year'. One thing you must know, is that your daughter's choices make a lot of sense – Miss Babcock decided to give Mr Brightmore medical power of attorney, and as he has proven to be a valuable asset to her recovery, it was decided to grant him the privilege of being able to stay for as long as he likes. Miss Babcock agreed to it, too."

Wilson clasped his hands together in a concluding fashion and turned to the door. "It was a pleasure meeting you, until the next time."

And so, the oncologist breezed out of the room, leaving behind two silent and shocked Babcocks. Stewart was the first to glance at Niles after the doctor left; he had a curious look on his face, the butler thought.

For a brief period, no one said anything at all, and it was more than a little worrisome. Stewart may have been looking at him curiously, but B.B. was almost unreadable in how many emotions she was currently experiencing. Niles was sure that nearly all of them would be negative, however. He could see C.C.'s eyelids drooping as she lay back against her pillows, too. It wouldn't be long at all before she was completely under, and wouldn't wake again for several hours, at least. She needed the rest, but he was dreading the fact that that would technically leave him alone with her parents.

Soon enough, the time came, and it was obvious to all that C.C. was asleep. B.B. was, naturally, the first to speak.

"Medical power of attorney?" she hissed. Whether that was to keep herself quiet in front of her sleeping daughter or because she was just that angry, it was hard to tell. "C.C. gave you medical power of attorney?"

Stewart gently released C.C.'s hand to reach out to his ex-wife in a quelling gesture, "Now, now, B.B.-"

"Not now, Stewart!" B.B. whispered. "This man has more say in our daughter's medical treatment than we do! He is not even family!"

"Do you hear yourself?" Stewart muttered back. "We just had an entire conversation with C.C. about her exact reasons for not trusting family with something like this. And from what we've just seen while we've both been here, I think Niles is perfectly up to the job. He's a good man; decent, trustworthy, and caring."

B.B. made to gesture at Niles, "But he's also-"

"I know you must have your reservations," Niles piped up, finally sick of the pair of them talking like neither he nor C.C. were in the room. "I do understand, Mrs Babcock, that you only want what's best for your daughter. So do I. I want her to be well again, and I'm honoured that she trusted me enough to take on this role when it became clear that your son could not be here enough to fulfil it. So I am going to do everything possible to make sure I do it well, which includes staying with her, if she so requires. That is why Dr Wilson waived visiting hours for me."

He left out the part about the doctor proclaiming them to be each other's "not-special someone". Having one Babcock in the hospital was enough; he didn't want B.B. to have some kind of aneurysm over this.

"See? The man makes sense, you should listen to him," Stewart spoke up before B.B. could find more reasons to oppose to Niles having medical power of attorney. "Our daughter trusts him, and that should be enough."

"But... Stewart... I..." B.B. huffed, not quite finding anything to grasp on to justify her desire to kick the butler out.

"Mr and Mrs Babcock," Niles cut in, finally standing up from the sofa on which he had been sat. "I assure you, my only aim now is to be there for your daughter until she gets better. Now, I won't lie to either of you, she wasn't planning on telling you anything about her illness before the press found out, but now that you know, she needs you here," Niles sighed, glancing at the sleeping woman on the bed. Even though she was ill and her appearance clearly denoted so, for him she was still the most beautiful woman that had ever existed. "Many times, after the chemo drugs had left her slightly confused and lightheaded, she said she missed you and that she wished you could be here – now that you are, losing precious time arguing about why I have medical power of attorney," he looked at B.B., making it clear he was saying this for her. "Is not important."

The butler could tell B.B. was outraged by the way in which he had talked to them, but he had to make her understand. They were going to see each other a lot for the time being, and although they didn't have to get along, he expected her to be civil towards him – for C.C.'s sake, of course.

"Now I think you two need some time alone with your child, and I need to go back to the mansion and grab some things I'll be needing seeing as I'll be staying here overnight," he made a small bow – mostly out of habit – and not wanting to prolong this uncomfortable talk, he turned on his heels and scurried away, his mind busy with the many things he had yet to do.

He didn't know it yet, but his words had reached B.B., who was now looking at the space where the butler had stood with a strange, thoughtful look in her eyes.

* * *

After the butler was gone, silence and dread filtered into the room like the cold wintry breeze filters through the edges of closed windows, and soon B.B. and Stewart's ears got accustomed to the silence that reigned inside the room – or rather, to the silence that was only interrupted by the faint sound of C.C.'s breathing. Both parents couldn't speak or even move... they could only watch their sick daughter sleep. They still were sat on her bed, each holding one of her hands in theirs; it was shocking to see their child in such a state, and part of them feared that this was the last state they'd ever see her in.

Neither B.B. nor Stewart knew it, but both of them were thinking along the same lines – how had this happened? How had they reached the point of their own daughter not trusting them? Why had she hidden from them?

The news of her illness had been like a hurricane – sudden and destructive. B.B. remembered she had just woken up when she had received a call from a desperate Stewart; all over the news it was said that their daughter – their Kitten – was sick with cancer. The Babcock patriarch had asked her if she knew anything about it, if C.C. had told her, but B.B. had been just as lost as him…

After a few calls to the hospital and then to Noel were made, both parents had come to the crushing realisation that, indeed, their daughter was suffering from a terrible illness and had kept them in the dark for over four months. Her lack of trust in them had been insulting, to say the least, but they now understood that they were to blame for C.C. feeling they didn't care for her.

Guilt was the only emotion they could feel; had they been more attentive, more supporting when C.C. was younger, this would have never happened. Instead, they'd have been there since the beginning of her treatment, helping her through it. But they couldn't waste time thinking about 'what ifs' – now they had to try and be there for her, no matter what. They had to try to prove C.C. just how important she was for them.

Curiously enough, however, it was B.B. who had been more affected by their daughter's actions. She had never been an involved parent, but that didn't mean she didn't love her children! Far from it, in fact. She had only educated the same way her parents had educated her – she had been raised by nannies and servants so, back when she first became a mother, the natural thing to do had been to entrust her own kids to the servitude, too. Hence B.B. never having thought that her actions would lead to this...

She knew she was a cold, selfish woman – it didn't take a genius to decipher that – but her children had always come first. Even after she had left them all those many years ago…

She had sent them to the best schools, had given them anything they wanted, she had hired only the best nannies and servants to wait on them; but that clearly hadn't been enough. It was slowly dawning on her that, perhaps, what her children had always desired from her and had never gotten, was her being involved in their lives. Maybe they had wanted a hug instead of a new pony, or a goodnight kiss instead of a nanny reading them any bedtime story they wanted.

Maybe, just maybe, that's why C.C. had always felt she was better off by herself.

"Barbara, are you alright?" Stewart's worried voice brought her out of her musings.

"Hm? Y-yes, I'm fine," she lied, straightening her back. She saw Stewart grimace from the corner of her eye; he knew she was not okay.

"I don't think so, B.B. – it's okay to not be alright, you know?" his voice wobbled, making it evident that he was just as broken as she was. "This is hard for the both of us."

She heaved out a sigh, but it cracked in the middle.

"When...when I was young, my mother always told me to be strong, in the face of adversity," she bit the inside of her lip and dropped her gaze away to her lap, where she fiddled with her hands. "To do anything else just wouldn't be proper."

Stewart frowned, and shook his head, "Propriety goes out the window when your child needs you, Barbara. Your mother may have thought she was giving you sound advice out of love, but that advice doesn't always work in the real world."

"I realise that now," she agreed lamely, feeling her eyes well up with tears. "I just wish I'd known it before all of this happened..."

Hesitating, Stewart slowly reached out, and took her hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly, "You're not the only one to blame, here. I wasn't exactly consecutive Father of the Year for all the time the kids lived with us. And even after..."

They sat in silence for a moment, and B.B.'s shoulders slumped.

She knew what he had been about to say – he had wanted to say " _And even after you left."_

For some reason, this was what tortured her the most. She had been the one to desert her family, not Stewart. Her husband might have spent too much time at work, but at least he had stayed with their children. B.B. suddenly felt Stewart tightening his grip on her hand – it was no wonder, though, she was now crying in earnest, after all.

"What are we going to do, Stewart?" she no longer cared about sounding broken, or lost. It was Stewart, the father of her children, and they were both opening up, at least a little. They had to, if they were going to be good on their promise to be by their daughter's side through this. "We can be here and see that C.C. has her parents, but what can we really do...?"

"That's... that's the problem, Barbara. We can only be here for her and hope for the best," Stewart said, letting go of her hand and edging around the side of C.C.'s bed. He sat next to B.B. and draped an arm around her shoulders, and the older socialite could only lean against him and cry.

She had never thought that she'd have to face the possibility of losing her daughter – at least not forever. They had been estranged for years, but at least B.B. had known she was doing fine and that, if she wanted to, she could reach out for her at any time.

Now that was uncertain, and it terrified her.

"There, there," Stewart said, starting to cry, too. "It will be okay."

"And how do you know that? We can't even give her our bone marrow and you say things will be fine?!"

Stewart tightened his grip on her. He had never seen B.B. like this before, and – although the situation was absolutely terrible – it was rather nice to know they could support each other through the pain. It was their daughter, after all, and if someone could understand how he felt, it was B.B..

"We just have to have hope, Barbara," he whispered. "It's all we can do. C.C. is a fighter, just like you, and she'll get through this."

"I don't know, Stewart... I love our child, and I've never felt so afraid of losing her as I'm feeling right now."

"I'm scared, too," Stewart admitted. He did so without shame – how else would any decent father feel? He kept his grip on B.B.'s shoulder tight, comforted in being able to hold someone. "Scared of the same things you are. Of losing her, and losing her for good this time. But we have to be strong. C.C. needs support right now, and we are here to give her that. The rest is up to the doctors, and to whomever becomes her donor. It's all the best money can pay for, and we have to hold firm and see if it's enough. We can't give up. What incentive does C.C. have to carry on if the ones who should love her most are too afraid to stick by her?"

B.B. pressed herself harder into his shoulder, as though he could hide her and stop the outside world from reaching in, but Stewart also felt her nod, "You're right. I know you're right. We all have to stay together, if we have any chance of getting through this."

Tentatively, Stewart rested his head on top of hers, feeling more encouraged when she didn't pull away, or ask him what he was doing. This was hard for the both of them, and the comfort that could be provided by each other right then was more welcome than either one could really say, particularly when they were in a hospital – specifically, their daughter's room in said hospital.

It was definitely a conversation best left for outside, far away from the person who should be their priority.

"And I promise you, Ocean Eyes," Stewart whispered after a long silence, "I'll be right by your side through this, too."

B.B.'s breath caught in her throat. Ocean Eyes? He had actually called her Ocean Eyes? It had been ages since he had last used that name to address her...

She remembered he had come up with it the summer they'd first met – they had been at a party, bored out of their minds, when they had suddenly laid eyes on each other. It had been instant attraction, and – as they had danced – Stewart had told her that there was something in her eyes that reminded him of the ocean; they were deep, mysterious, and full of secrets that longed to be discovered.

Ever since then, it had become a term of endearment that he only used on very special occasions – such as when she had just given birth to their children or on their wedding day – and she supposed this counted as one. He was not only offering his support during this dark time, but he was also offering her a shoulder to cry on and a rock to hold onto during the storm…

And she was grateful. More grateful than words could explain, really. She looked up at him and attempted a smile. He smiled at her, too.

For the first time in many years, both Babcocks finally felt like they weren't so alone anymore.

* * *

 **AN: After much discussion, we decided to give you an extra chapter! We weren't going to upload it for another few days, but we are rather anxious to show you this one.**

 **Thank you so much for your wonderful reviews! They truly keep us motivated. And for Dizzy, don't worry, there is more Noel coming :-P the Babcocks, as you can clearly see in this chapter, will be involved in her recovery.**

 **As usual, we'd love to have your feedback!**

 **Enjoy!**

 **H &L**


	10. Chapter 10

**_Chapter 10_**

 ** _Matched_**

Weeks went past since the discovery of C.C.'s cancer had been featured on the news, and although it was still discussed in gossip shows and magazines, the paparazzi were no longer camped before the hospital's entrance. She had gotten numerous phone calls, _"Get Well Soon!"_ cards and gifts from relatives and many of her supposed "friends", but no one apart from Niles, the Sheffields, her parents and brother had visited her.

Not that she had expected otherwise.

Niles and B.B. were getting along – although it was far from what any normal person would define as _'getting along'_ – and they had managed to remain civil whenever they were in the same room together. However, barbed comments were constantly exchanged between them.

Luckily for him, today he was not going to see the Head witch of the Coven – he had more important matters to attend to. The butler had undergone a series of tests to define if he was a match for C.C., and he was finally going to receive the results.

He was sat in Wilson's office, awaiting for the oncologist – who was reading through the results of his tests – to speak.

"Well, my dear boy, I have to say it, the odds were almost minuscule…" Wilson said, pulling a face. Niles could almost feel himself deflate – he had known the chances of them being a match were almost non-existent, but actually knowing he wasn't able to help her made him feel like he had sunk into the deepest ocean and couldn't breathe anymore… "But luckily for her, the odds were actually in your favour! Congratulations, Prince Charming, you are a match! Now you can donate bone marrow to aid in your not-girlfriend's recovery."

If the butler hadn't been elated by the words _"you are a match"_ , the continued use of the term "not-girlfriend" would have bothered him, and he might have said so. He hadn't dared trying to ask C.C. where they stood – not only because of her condition and any feeling that he might be taking advantage, but also because of the increased presence of family members. He could only really say so much when certain people were around, after all. And even if they weren't there, he had to keep himself in check. They had a long way to go yet to know if C.C. was in the clear.

But as it was, he stopped listening after Wilson confirmed that what he had been hoping for since the idea had manifested itself was now actually possible. They were a match. He could give C.C. his bone marrow. They could see if it had any effect. It could help her recover, and get well again. He could save her life.

He could be her hero, even if she didn't know it. But he'd know it, and him knowing and seeing her return to full health was enough of a reward on its own.

He wondered how things would be, if everything worked out alright and the treatment was a success. They couldn't go back to being _sort-of-enemies-sort-of-friends again_ , could they? They'd proven too much how they cared about one another for that. He didn't want to go back to that; not when he knew how he felt. It would be like losing her in a whole different way, and having to start all over again.

But there was no time to dwell on that. He had to see what they were to do next, after all. There was a lot to be done, he was sure, before he went into the hospital for a few days to make the donation. He would miss C.C., and he hoped she'd miss him too while he was gone, but it would be worth it when she got her donation. He just hoped his alibi for not coming in to see her would work.

He rose swiftly from his chair, beaming all over his face.

"That's such fantastic news!" he exclaimed. "What happens first? Do we tell C.C. there's a donor available?"

"Well, seeing as C.C. will undergo her last two months of chemo now, I think we could carry out the procedure in two weeks," Wilson leaned back against his chair, lacing his hands together and resting them on his lap. "You'll have to stay at the hospital for some days; you'll be admitted 48hs before the removal of your bone marrow, and stay for another 48hs after the procedure has been carried out. As for your second question, yes we should tell her, but you still want to remain anonymous, right?"

"Yes, I do," the butler nodded.

"Okay. Do you have any excuse for your absence?"

"Yes. I have agreed with the Sheffields that C.C. will be told that I am sick; seeing as her immune system is already weak, she will understand why I can't come to visit."

It was a simple, yet brilliant, alibi. Fran had actually come up with the idea, and they had agreed he'd stop coming to the hospital for a week – that would cover the five days he needed to spend at the hospital, and two more just to keep up appearances. He had to start pretending to feel under the weather in the next few days, so as to make his excuse more believable.

Besides, in this way they could still talk on the phone and C.C. wouldn't feel quite so alone while he was gone.

"Ah, brilliant! Well, that settles it then. Do you have any more doubts?"

"When will she receive the transplant?" Niles asked. He only hoped he was well enough to hold her hand while she underwent it.

"Well, after she has completed her chemo, she'll go home for a few weeks – we have to give her body some time to recover before the transplant is made. I am glad you two agreed that you'll stay with her in the meantime, by the way. Anyway, she then has to go through a conditioning treatment that will destroy existing bone marrow cells to make room for the transplant issue, destroy any cancer cells that might have survived the chemo and stop her immune system for working and rejecting your donation. After the conditioning treatment starts, she will be moved to an isolated room."

Niles' brown furrowed in confusion. Isolated room? He remembered C.C. telling him about them; in those rooms visitors had to wear scrubs and a mask! Wasn't he going to be able to touch her? To hold her?

"Let me explain," Wilson said, noticing the butler's troubled look. "The conditioning treatment will destroy her immune system, so any little germ could represent a potential threat to her life. Her defences will be gone and eventually replaced by yours, but until that happens she has to be isolated - any little infection could kill her! You will be able to see her, only you won't be able to stay as much as you do now and you'll also have to wear protection."

The thought of not being able to touch her or hold her in his arms like he had grown used to hurt him more deeply than he could really explain. But he knew it had to be done. At that stage, it would be crucial that nothing went wrong. He wasn't going to let some selfish desire for the two of them to be close to leave her worse off than she already was, anyway.

And he had to look on the bright side. If everything went well, and C.C. got better, he'd be able to hold her as much as he liked...

Well, he might have been getting ahead of himself, there. He'd certainly be able to spend more time with her, and maybe, just maybe, cross into that connection that Dr Wilson kept talking about. If she wanted to. He knew he did, and after having spent all of this time together, surely they at least had a chance?

If everything went well and he did as he was told, they must have a chance.

He nodded at what the doctor had said, "I understand. I won't argue about it, either – not when it's her life that's at stake."

Dr Wilson huffed out a laugh through his nose and shook his head amusedly, "You really are a complete hero, aren't you? And lemme stop you just there before you say something completely dramatic like _"Only for her"_ , because I think I can already hear the bards and the lyricists making their way down the corridor with their flutes and their lyres to weave the Ballad of Niles the Chivalrous, and I don't have time for that. So what's say you and I go back to your waiting princess, and tell her that someone is on his anonymous way to slay the dragon, hm?"

Niles gave him an unamused look, but turned away towards the door anyway, "Alright."

The two men quickly left the room, and began to head for C.C.'s. Niles could feel his heart pumping in excitement – he was getting his chance to really help, more so than ever before, and C.C. didn't have to know anything more than someone out there was saving her life.

"So, you want me to tell her there's a donor available, or should I do it?" Wilson brought him out of his thoughts with that question.

Niles didn't even need to think about it. Wilson had to be the one who gave C.C. the news for two reasons – one, because if the donation was supposed to be anonymous, then only her doctor would know that information; and two, because he was sure that the excitement in his voice would give away that he was the donor or, at least, that he knew who had donated the bone marrow to her.

"You do it," Niles said, already hearing the distant sound of the piano being played. C.C.'s mood had improved significantly ever since her parents had started visiting her, and the fact that she was going home in two months after having spent the better part of a year in a hospital, was only the icing of the cake. She knew she'd eventually have to go back to receive the bone marrow transplant, but she wanted to stay positive – it would be like a nice vacation before needing to go back into the hospital.

"Fair enough."

Eventually, both Niles and Wilson got to the room, and much to their (pleasant) surprise, they found both C.C. and Noel were sat before the piano, playing a song together. The producer had told Niles that, back when she was a young girl, she had enjoyed both playing and listening to music with her brother, and it seemed time hadn't changed that. There was a look of utter happiness and relaxation on her face as she played the piano with Noel, and Niles couldn't help but smile, too. It had been a while since he had last seen her look so content.

"Good morning, Sonny and Cher," the oncologist piped up, drawing the attention of the two Babcocks in the room to him. "I am sorry to interrupt your concert, but I have some news!"

"Morning to you too, Wilson," said C.C. as she got up from the stool before the piano and walked back to her bed. She knew it was about time to start her chemo session. "What is it that you have to tell me?"

"I know soulless creatures like you don't consider disinterested acts of kindness good news, but I am almost certain this one is going to be an exception," Wilson smiled, looked towards Niles and then indicated to C.C. "Well, don't just stand there! Go and hold her hand, like any other normal not-boyfriend would do."

Both Niles and C.C. glared at the doctor, but the butler eventually obliged and sat down next to the producer, who quickly wrapped his hand with hers. Noel, who could only look at the scene in amusement, quirked an amused eyebrow at the sight of his sister and the butler holding hands.

"So, can you stop fooling around and simply tell us what's up?" C.C. said, growing impatient.

"Alright, alright! There is no need to get your panties in a knot," Wilson made a pause to create effect and looked between Niles and C.C.. "As it turns out, we've found a match for your transplant. The donor wishes to remain anonymous, though."

Niles hoped his feigned gasp of surprise was convincing, for he could barely contain the happiness that seemed to be about to burst from deep within him. C.C. took a moment to process what had just been said to her, and when the doctor's words fully sunk in, the woman burst into tears – happy tears. A huge weight had just been lifted from her shoulders, and Niles was thankful for having been able to help her, to take that burden away from her.

"Really?" she sobbed, completely and utterly joyful. "Really and truly?"

"Would I really be so cruel as to come in here and make that up?" Wilson asked, smirking.

"You have your days," C.C. wiped her eyes with one hand, using the other to grip Niles' other hand as he wrapped the one closest to her around her shoulders in a careful but clearly ecstatic hug. She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder as she half-laughed, half-cried. Her vision was misting over faster than she could do anything about it, but she didn't care – she could hear the sounds of cheering that were clearly coming from her brother, and the hug the butler was giving her felt so good, she wasn't inclined to move too much right then. She wasn't inclined to do anything for as long as she needed to, as long as things kept looking up like they were, and he was hugging her like he was.

Niles rubbed her upper arm comfortingly and chuckled, "We all have our days. But today is your lucky one, it would seem!"

"Yeah...!" C.C. squeezed his hand and blinked hard. "Some nameless saviour has come along to give me a second chance!"

The happiness in her voice, and the way she said "saviour" nearly completely overwhelmed Niles. He chanced a glance at Wilson, who raised an eyebrow and nodded minutely in approval. The butler couldn't reply back too much, however, seeing as Noel was sat facing him, and could see any reaction he might have. So, he just grinned because at least that could suggest he was simply happy because C.C. had a donor at last, and looked back down to where she was resting her head.

"That they have," he agreed, not allowing his voice to break. "Funny to think a knight in shining armour out there somewhere is saving a dragon in here."

C.C. laughed, still not being able to school her emotions. She had been so afraid, so terrified of not finding a donor in time… so terrified of her time running up when she was discovering that she was, in fact, loved by many people. One of the many things her illness had taught her was to appreciate simple things in life, like love or friendship. Granted, the lesson had come at a great cost, but it had been worth it. Before she had gotten sick her aims in life had been almost unattainable – which had only helped to make her miserable – but now, after having experienced the fear of not knowing if she'd live or die, both her view of life and her priorities had changed.

She looked up at the smiling butler, finding only joy and happiness in his eyes – or wait… perhaps there was something more, something she didn't quite grasp yet, but it was beautiful and heart-warming all the same. He leaned in and placed a kiss on her forehead before resting his cheek on top of her head. It was something he did quite lot, especially when he was particularly happy, and she had grown to love it.

"Get a room!" the oncologist said, bringing both butler and producer out of their own little world.

"Very funny, Wilson. Could you keep from being an obnoxious smartass? Just for once?" C.C. asked, disentangling herself from Niles and lying back against her pillows. "Wait... to be a smartass first you have to be smart, otherwise you are just an ass."

"Excuse me, but I think I have proven my mental capacity is enough for me to be considered smart. So yes, I could keep myself from being a smartass, but where is the fun in that?" Wilson smirked as he put on his rubber gloves and set her IV in place so as to start the dripping. "Niles, I know you find it hard to spend more than ten minutes apart from your not-other-half, but I need you to move now."

The butler immediately did as he was told and backed away so Wilson could do his job comfortably. However, just when he was about to sit on the sofa, his stomach rumbled. He hadn't had breakfast that morning, so he figured that as the oncologist needed some minutes to successfully put the IV in place and start the dripping, he could make a quick trip to the cafeteria.

"You know, due to that comment I won't bring you anything from the cafeteria," the butler said, heading for the door. He lingered for a moment and looked at C.C. "What about you, Babcock? Do you want anything? You deserve a treat after receiving such good news."

"No, thank you," the producer said, but she quickly changed her mind. "But I'd love to have a Toffee Nut Frappuccino from the Starbucks ten blocks away from here."

Niles gave her an unimpressed look. "You take pleasure in complicating things for me, don't you?"

"I live for it," the blonde replied, a cocky smile slowly making its way across her face.

"Oh, please! You love it! You'd even go to Argentina and buy her an alfajor if she asked you to," Wilson interjected, giving Niles a contemptuous stare. "Now move it along, Romeo, and let me do my job."

The butler rolled his eyes one last time and left the room, his destination now being Starbucks instead of the hospital's café. Wilson was right, he didn't mind doing anything for her – if it made her happy or made her treatment more bearable, then he'd do it.

"Niles, wait!"

The butler turned around and spotted the professor running towards him. He wondered what had happened – had C.C. changed her mind about her drink, perhaps? "What is it, Noel?"

"Oh, I am just in the mood for coffee, too. I thought we could walk together to Starbucks, and – while we are on the way – you could tell me all about donating your bone marrow to my sister."

Niles' heart sped up for a moment, and then he relaxed, giving Noel a deadpan look, "Dr Wilson told you."

The professor raised an eyebrow, and then smirked, "No, but you just did."

Niles halted in his tracks, suddenly feeling somewhat like he couldn't breathe. Noel had tricked him! And he had stupidly fallen into his trap! He never let sensitive information slip like that before, especially not when it came to C.C. and what he had done for her! The man he'd just told was closer to the producer than any other person he could think of, even the siblings' own parents. What if he told her what was going on? What would Niles say to her if he did? Would C.C. be angry at him for apparently pitying her? Hurt for not telling her that he was going to do it? Something else entirely?

It almost didn't bear thinking about, and yet here they were, about to discuss it as Noel could see he was backed into a corner. He had him right where he wanted him – even if he hadn't stopped walking, the expression on his face would have given him away.

The butler supposed there was no point in trying to stammer out something like _"I'm sorry, I must have misheard you, I don't actually know what you're referring to"_. For one thing, because Noel would know he was lying, but also because he didn't think he could managed to say a complete sentence like that right then.

His mouth didn't seem to take the cue to not try explaining, however, "I...uh...well-"

"Oh, Niles, there's no need to look quite so horrified!" Noel exclaimed. "I'm glad you're doing this for C.C.!"

Being glad was one thing. Not telling her was another thing entirely. The professor's words didn't really relieve him of his fear, not when he knew that the man could tell his sister purely because he was overjoyed, not necessarily out of malice. Niles pulled a face, swallowing, as they continued to walk towards the front doors of the hospital.

"Are you going to tell her?" he wondered how much fear was coming through in his words, and if it would be enough to persuade Noel to think carefully before deciding anything.

"Well, I do think it would be nice for C.C. to know who is actually saving her life," Noel gave Niles a thoughtful look, one that allowed the butler to actually hope he wouldn't tell her. "But seeing as the donor himself doesn't want her to know, then I guess I won't."

Niles released a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. He was safe. He supposed, however, that Noel would want some kind of explanation in exchange for his silence – if the man was anything like his sister (and Niles knew he was) he wouldn't agree to anything unless he had something to win.

"Thank you," Niles said, feeling how his altered heartbeat slowly went back to normal. "But I know you want an explanation. Don't you?"

"Well... yes. I wonder, why do you want to hide this? Usually, when people do this kind of things for a loved one they expect recognition for their disinterested action."

The used of "loved one" wasn't lost on the butler, and he realised the older Babcock also had his suspicions about the nature of his relationship with C.C..

"I... well... C.C..." Niles heaved a sigh. He had to be completely honest to be able to answer his question, and he supposed Noel would keep his secret if he gave him the information he was looking for. He stopped walking and turned to look at the professor. "If I tell you this, you have to promise not to tell her."

Noel hesitated, but in the end he caved in. Weighing his options, it was obvious that obtaining the truth was far more valuable than exposing his secret. "Alright, I won't. Now, why is it that you don't want her to know?"

"It's complicated, but it's basically because I don't want your sister to feel I am doing this out of pity or because I want to..." Niles had to swallow a lump in his throat. He had only admitted his love for C.C. to Wilson, and he was about to do so again to the man who was one of C.C.'s most trusted confidantes. "...to take advantage of her condition. I fear she might feel I am trying to be her hero during this time of need just to get closer to her, or to somehow force her to be thankful or indebted to me."

"So then, what are your reasons for doing this?" Noel asked, although they both knew he knew the answer – he just wanted to hear Niles say it.

The butler looked down to the floor as they left the hospital, slowly making their way to the coffee shop.

"I want to do this because I... I love her."

Noel nodded, smiling softly as he walked along with his hands behind his back, "Feel any better for saying it out loud?"

Niles could only really wish that it did. It certainly didn't make him feel any worse, having other people know, but not fully knowing the professor's intentions now that he had this knowledge was making the butler more than a little uneasy.

"You're not the first person I've told," he said, looking straight ahead at the path in front of them. It was looking more and more like the sooner they got to the coffee shop, the better.

"I could have guessed that – from the way Dr Wilson seemed to be all over the pair of you, it was obvious that he'd already gotten the gossip," Noel replied. "I just wanted to know if you felt better knowing that you could say it to a member of C.C.'s own family without getting, as you Brits say, "an earful" from them."

Niles looked over at the other man curiously, "You're not going to berate me? Tell me that I have no place thinking something so improper towards someone above my station?"

Noel stopped where he was, looked down at himself as though inspecting every part of his suit. He even turned this way and that, as though looking for some invisible mark or stain.

Niles watched him, brow furrowed, "What are you doing?"

Noel looked up, "Oh, I'm sorry. I was just making sure I hadn't accidentally become my mother. Of course I'm not going to tell you anything like that!"

Niles had to laugh at that. He was still not completely sure about Noel's intentions, but he was certain that the man meant to do no harm.

"I just wanted to make sure, that's all," the professor spoke again.

"Make sure of what?"

Noel just offered him a mysterious smile. "I just wanted to make sure that you are the kind of man I suspected. My sister doesn't give her trust easily, so I just wanted to see for myself why she decided to let you in."

His answer seemed to satisfy the butler, who simply gave a sharp nod and looked ahead – they could already see the coffee shop's sign in the distance. Not that he'd say it aloud, but Noel did have other motives for wanting that information, and now that his suspicions had been proven correct, he simply had to put his plan in action.

Lucky for him, he was sure a certain doctor would be more than happy to help.

* * *

It had been almost an hour when both Niles and Noel came back to the hospital – the coffee shop was bustling with people, hence their order taking so long to be ready.

Just as C.C. had asked, Niles bought her a Toffee Nut Frappuccino with extra cream. Unlike Noel and C.C., Niles wasn't particularly fond of Starbucks, so while Noel took the coffee to his sister, Niles made a quick stop at the hospital cafeteria and had breakfast.

Although his secret was now known by possibly the only person who was as much of a yenta as he was, Niles was feeling quite good with himself. Being able to donate bone marrow was a dream come true – now he could actually help her beat her cancer, he could give her another chance...

Whenever he thought about it, he felt his breath catching in his throat.

He could be her hero, even if she wasn't supposed to know it.

He could save her and help her live.

He couldn't help but smile to himself as he stood up from his chair and went back to her room. Seeing as she was going through a chemo session, he was almost certain he'd get to hold her in a little while, too – the day was simply getting better and better!

Well... her receiving chemo was not good at all, but at least he got to help her through it.

Halfway to her room, however, he spun on his heels and went back to the gift shop – he remembered the flowers in her room had withered, so he figured it was time to bring new ones. As usual, he bought lilies, her favourites, but he also added a few roses because...

Well... just because.

Once the flowers were properly wrapped, he quickly went back to her room. Much to his surprise, he didn't find her or Noel there; instead, he found Dr Wilson sitting on one of the sofas, writing something down on her file.

The oncologist must have heard him at the door, for he looked up at him and scoffed.

"Oh, come on, flowers?! Now I truly am about to slip in a diabetic coma."

"Where is she?!" the butler asked in something that bordered desperation. She shouldn't be out of bed! Much less be out of her room! Where had she gone to?!

"Calm down, tender heart," Wilson rolled his eyes minutely and waved a hand at him. "Don't start blubbering on me just yet. Nurse Cameron took her down to the Music Room. Relax. She's not run off without telling her own personal guardian angel where she was going."

As much as he found the way Wilson had told him the news both irritating and condescending, the butler couldn't help but relax. In that split second his mind had thrown up a bunch of horrible scenarios, each terrifying to him, no matter how improbable they actually were. But she was truly fine – C.C. was okay, she was just down in the Music Room. Probably listening to something, rather than dancing at this point, but hopefully enjoying herself just the same.

Well, at least it meant he could still go and see her.

He nodded at the doctor, "Right. Well, I suppose I'll change the flowers and then go down-"

He began to move towards the vase on the bedside table, but Wilson's voice stopped him again.

"Why don't you take them to her?" he suggested. "If you leave them in the vase, she might think the nurses changed them. If you show up at the door, bouquet in hand, there's no mistaking. God, I should do this for a living."

Niles gave Wilson an unamused look. Yes, he might have bought the flowers not only because they served to decorate the room, but he was not about to take them to her, either.

It would be far too obvious.

He turned for the vase again and changed the flowers; he could almost feel Wilson's disapproving stare as he did so, too.

"Wuss puss," the oncologist muttered. "You give her bone marrow and you can't even give her some flowers!"

Once again Niles chose not to acknowledge Wilson – he knew that it drove him mad. Not to get him wrong, Niles so wanted to show C.C. how much he loved her, but it wasn't the right time. Not yet.

Wilson frowned, slamming Babcock's file shut. These two were going to drive him insane! He had never seen two people more stubborn than them – it was about damn time for them to wise up and be together.

Before he could say anything else, however, Niles had finished changing the flowers and was already heading for the music room, clearly eager to see the producer. Wilson could only shake his head and go back to his paperwork.

Luckily, Noel Babcock was awaiting for him in his office. According to the professor, he had a more than interesting idea between his hands. One that could result in the butler and his sister finally getting together.

The oncologist smirked – he finally had found a partner in crime. It just remained to be seen just how mischievous Noel Babcock was.

Meanwhile, oblivious to the scheming that was being carried out by Wilson and Noel at that very same moment, Niles practically ran to the music room. It had been a while since C.C. had had the energy to leave her own bed, so he was happy that she had wanted to spend some time out of her room.

It didn't take long for Sinatra's _"Just the Way You Look Tonight"_ to drift to his ears.

He smiled to himself as soon as he spotted Babcock sprawled across the music room's sofa; she had her eyes closed and a soft smile on her face.

God... her smile was still the prettiest one he had ever seen. The sight wasn't even spoiled by the IV stand that was by her side, holding the IV connected to her arm – she was happy, and that was what mattered.

Upon hearing footsteps, C.C. opened her eyes and peered up towards him. Her smile didn't falter at all.

"Oh, you're back," she didn't sound disappointed, either, just surprised. "How was your breakfast?"

Niles pulled a chair towards the sofa, and seated himself, "Oh, it was fine. The food here isn't bad, really, compared to what I've experienced."

"Well, this place isn't your average hospital," C.C. replied, and Niles could really only silently agree with a nod before she continued. "Wilson tell you I was down here?"

"Yes," he answered, looking around. "Why are you down here by yourself? I thought your brother was here, and that you were brought by the nurse."

"Nurse Cameron had to go to another patient, and Noel had to go talk to Wilson," C.C. gave a relaxed shrug. "While I wasn't in any pain, I said it was alright to be left by myself."

Niles frowned. Part of him might have said that even if she wasn't in any pain, that didn't mean it was alright for her to be left by herself, just in case she suddenly needed help. But he knew she wouldn't appreciate it, and she looked as fine as she could be in the current circumstances.

And at any rate, she wasn't alone anymore. And there was nothing stopping them spending some time down here, as long as C.C. wanted to be up and about.

She had noticed his reserve, though. The frown had given it away.

Months ago she would have been mad at him for being worried about her being alone, but now she simply couldn't. Niles had never pitied her or treated her with kitten gloves; his worry stemmed from the fact that he had seen her in pain before, and he only wanted someone to be there to help her in case she needed it. Her illness was treacherous, and pain came and went as it pleased, making being alone a bit of a risk.

But she wasn't alone anymore – he was here. Truth to be told, she hadn't felt alone since that afternoon when he first came bursting into her room, demanding an explanation.

Suddenly, a very familiar song began to play – "Our Love is Here To Stay". It was almost instantaneous; they sought for the eyes of the other, and a soft, tender smile spread across their faces. That was their song...

She reached out for his hand and clasped it – why? She didn't know, but she simply had the need to be connected to him. She wanted to dance, and so did he – it was obvious by the look in his eyes – but she could also sense his hesitation.

Although she was in no condition to dance as she had with Wilson and Cameron before she had started her chemo, she did have the strength to slowly sway to the music – especially if he held her, as he'd have to do to dance to this song.

If she wanted to dance, it seemed, then she'd have to take matters into her own hands.

"Niles?" she said as she slowly sat up. "Will you dance with me?"

His heart leapt as she asked. He had been on the cusp of forcing himself to do it, having decided to take whatever answer she gave him, but hearing her say the words felt even better than he could actually imagine. It meant she really did want to dance, she wasn't just humouring him.

He rose from his seat, reaching out for her hand as she got up, "Of course."

Beaming, she closed her fingers around his, and he helped her to stand.

She stumbled a little, but he caught her in his arms and held her upright, each carefully studying their position. Neither minded, even though neither said so. They didn't have the courage to do it, not wanting to say something which made the other uncomfortable.

As one of Niles' hands remained holding C.C.'s, the other slipped to her waist, and they carefully began to move.

It didn't take long for the two of them to close more of the gap, holding each other as the producer began to tire and needed to rest against him. Niles was perfectly happy to let her lean her head on his shoulder, their arms around each other as they lazily swayed to the music.

Eventually, the song ended, but neither of them stopped dancing. They simply swayed to the next song.

C.C.'s body was almost completely resting against Niles' by now, and although their dance was soft and gentle, the producer was feeling close to exhausted. She couldn't help but resent this, and – being the stubborn woman she was – she refused to acknowledge her tiredness; she wanted to dance with him, and she was going to do it.

Niles could feel her progressively supporting more of her weight against him, and it didn't surprise him, either. She was probably tired, but until she didn't say she needed to rest, he was more than happy to keep dancing with her. He only made sure to hold her tight, taking care to not disturb her IV.

Had either of them been more attentive, had they been less submerged in their own little world, they would have noticed a fast approaching Stewart and B.B. Babcock.

Noel had called them to tell them that they had found a donor for C.C., and the two older Babcocks had instantly come to the hospital. They were thrilled – their daughter finally had hope, a chance...

She could live...

They had asked what the donor's name was, but Noel had told them that donor wanted to remain anonymous. It was a shame, really, they wanted to thank them in some way for what they were doing. B.B. wanted to speak to this person, to try and repay them for what they were doing, but Noel had told her Dr Wilson was adamant to reveal this person's identity.

Imagine the Babcocks' shock when they got to their daughter's room and found no one. They had entered in panic – had something happened to her? Had she had an emergency? Had they needed to move her to the ICU?

B.B. had shrieked for answers, and eventually Nurse Cameron had told them she was in the music room, with Niles.

But she had never expected this...

Stewart, however, wasn't so surprised.

"Well, look at that!" the older man chuckled, gesturing at the dancing couple.

B.B. was looking. She had accepted that the butler had his uses when it came to helping her daughter through the pain of neuropathy, and made pleasant company to chat with (at least for her daughter), but...this was a step she hadn't imagined. That the two of them would ever be so close out of anything other than necessity, and appear to be enjoying it as though there was no one else in the world, let alone the room. She didn't know what to say.

Neither did Stewart, as it so happened. He didn't want to interrupt something that was clearly very private. The couple before them seemed so at peace in each other's arms, so happy, even if they didn't know it themselves. It was like something was holding them back from admitting it. Stewart could probably guess on C.C.'s part what that was, but Niles...well, he supposed the man was scared of admitting anything.

But that was his best guess, and it wasn't truly his business, anyway. It was something they had to figure out by themselves.

Neither one had to say anything, as it turned out, because as Niles and C.C. turned slowly in a circle, the butler happened to look up and spot the two of them stood there.

He also happened to be unlucky enough to catch B.B.'s eyes first. The older socialite was still so baffled by the sight before her that her glare was not as menacing as she would have hoped, but it was enough for the butler to realise that she was not happy with what she was seeing.

However, she was not going to burst into the room and demand him to unhand her child – no, the butler was an intelligent man, he'd let C.C. go before either she or Stewart went into the room. Besides, screaming while entering the music room would only upset her daughter, and that was the last thing she wanted.

Not when she had just found a donor.

Much to both elders' surprise, they saw Niles whisper something into C.C.'s ear – probably that they had company – and the producer merely shrugged and pulled the butler closer. He hesitated, but after a few words from C.C., he kept swaying to the music, avoiding her parents' gaze.

B.B. was close to fuming. Now she did want to scream, to kick the door open and pull that _servant_ away from her child. Although it was clear C.C. was the one who wanted to keep dancing, he should know better – he should know his place.

B.B. wasn't stupid, the younger couple – no, scratch that. They weren't a couple, they were a Babcock and a servant. The two of them were being too close for B.B.'s taste or what was considered proper, and it was more than obvious that the butler was taken with her child.

"Barbara, don't," Stewart said sternly.

She started when he suddenly spoke. How did he know what had been going on inside her head? Was she that easy to read?

"But Stewart-"

"No, B.B., I won't let you," Stewart moved to stand in front of her, blocking the way. She tried to struggle, but he placed his hands on her shoulders and held her in place. "Look at me."

She did.

"He makes her happy. This is about her; not about you, or me, or even Niles. This is her happy day, and if she wants to dance with him, let them be," his hands gingerly travelled to her waist.

They took a moment to realise just how long it had been since he had last held her like that.

"What's more," he said in a gentle, soft voice. "You could concede me a dance, too," Stewart fell silent for a moment and heaved a pained sigh. "It's been too long since we last danced – and we were quite good, weren't we?"

B.B. had to relent on that regard, "We certainly made a storm on any dancefloor we came into contact with."

Stewart's slowly growing smile sped up, and became a grin, "That's a good enough answer for me. So, what do you say? Shall we take a few turns ourselves?"

He thought it might be a good distraction from their daughter and her dance partner just feet away. But that wasn't the main reason. Truly, he had missed the opportunity to do this, and with the music playing right then, it was too good to pass up. He could only hope that B.B. thought so, too.

After considering for what felt like far too long an amount of time, her soft smile became wider, and more confident.

"Alright, then," she said, eyes shining with a new-found and deeply missed mischief. "I suppose I can allow you just once. Who knows how long you have left, after all?"

"I'm warning you, B.B.," Stewart gave her a feigned unimpressed look as he pulled her closer and began to sway to the music. "The gloves come off if the old jokes come out. I won't hold back."

The older socialite smirked. "You say that as if it were a bad thing! I recall you used to like our witty wordplay."

Stewart spun her around, a sad smile making its way across his wrinkled face. Yes, he used to love her dry and sarcastic sense of humour – he still did – but it had been over two decades since they had engaged in any type of good natured wordplay.

He remembered their fights had turned horribly aggressive and hurtful a little while before she left, and after they split up they had barely talked.

At least until their child got sick.

He hadn't realised just how much he had missed her until she waltzed back into his life in the most unexpected of ways. Granted, he was not happy that their reunion had been due to C.C.'s illness, but he couldn't help be grateful that it had led to them reconnecting.

He now spent almost all his time with B.B. and their youngest child, and it wasn't uncommon for him to drive B.B. home after a day at the hospital. Thanks to the quality time they were spending together, he had truly come to enjoy and look forward to seeing her, talking to her, being near her...

And each day his longing for something more grew.

It was strange and uncomfortable, but he had never been able to completely get over her.

He remembered, all those many years ago, coming home to find a note from her and all her possessions gone. He remembered crying in his study, away from his children's ears, for the loss of his wife.

She had gone away, and she had left him.

But why had she done it?

The note didn't say give a reason – it just said that they were done – and they never got the chance to talk about it afterwards.

"I did..." he eventually said in a soft voice. "But it's been years since we... well..."

"Since we even talked?" she completed and he nodded in agreement. "I know... we never really discussed what happened when I... when I..." she trailed off as their dancing slowed almost to a halt.

"When you went away," he finished for her, still half-heartedly trying to continue the dance. It had been so long, he didn't want anything to come between it. Not even a conversation like this one.

"You don't have to sugar-coat this, Stewart," B.B. told him, eyes dropping away from his gaze. She was ashamed of what had happened, but she knew they should face the facts. "You mean when I left you."

Stewart sighed, and nodded again. The words hung heavy over them, but the only way to make them go away was to talk about them. That was another thing it had taken them years to even think about discussing – truly, it had been too painful before now.

But with this new-found and growing friendliness – fondness? Affection, he dared hope? – growing between them, perhaps it was time to examine it. Clear the air.

Maybe it was all they really needed.

"Yeah...when you left," his voice was barely above a whisper, but it felt louder than the music they were still half-dancing to. Suddenly B.B. seemed very close to him, her eyes meeting his...her beautiful eyes, tinged with the sorrow that the memory brought. "We never...we never talked about why you left."

The older socialite glanced at her daughter and the butler – they were still embraced and dancing to the music, oblivious to the world outside of the music room. If she was being honest, there was something that reminded her of when she and Stewart were young and in love.

Perhaps it was the soft smile on both of their faces – a smile that suggested that, as long as they were in each other's embrace, everything would be alright. Or maybe it was the way they held each other or how lost in their own little world they seemed.

The picture made something inside her ache – she had once had that...

And she had given it up. But why? It had happened so long ago...

It was definitely time to discuss this.

She looked back at Stewart, whose eyes now showed a deep sadness – a sadness that had been there for decades. A sadness she had helped to create.

"Let's go to the gardens," she spoke softly, "This is a conversation we should have in private."

Stewart nodded, finally letting go of her. "I agree."

Neither would say it, but they longed for each other's embrace the moment they let go to walk to the gardens.

They eventually sat on one of the many benches that were scattered across the East gardens; they didn't really know why, but B.B. sat close to Stewart and rested her head on his shoulder, allowing him to envelop her shoulders with his arm.

There was a long silence. They were about to discuss probably one of the most painful moments in their lives, and the sad truth was that neither of them knew exactly where to start.

"Why did you leave?" Stewart eventually spoke.

"Because I was angry... I was tired of us fighting."

She didn't exactly remember how or why their fights had started – it was just that he was never home and, when he was, she was the one out at the country club, gossiping with her "friends". She remembered Stewart was often bothered by this, and the more time she spent with those women, the less she got along with her husband.

That was no way to be married.

The final straw had been the fight for B.B. wanting to send C.C. to a boarding school at the tender age of five. Her friends had told her it was the best for her kid, and she had no reason to not believe them, but her husband had seemed to believe otherwise and refused to even consider the possibility. Things had spun of control before either of them could stop it, Stewart had left for his office and the next think she knew was that she was going back to her parents' house in Pocantico Hills.

"Well, so was I, but did that really call for you leaving?" Stewart asked, slightly regretting the phrasing as soon as the question had left his mouth. "We could have talked it through..."

Well, they were talking it through now. He was hoping that it just wasn't far too late.

B.B. sighed, feeling her voice growing thick, "I just didn't see any way out. I felt trapped, and I thought if we tried to talk, we'd just end up fighting again. Leaving the note seemed safer. No yelling, no fuss, a clean way out."

"It might have been clean for you," he muttered.

It probably came out more bitter than he'd meant it to, because he felt B.B. shift so that she could sit up to better look at him.

"I only thought it would be clean," her voice had a stern edge to it as everything poured out. "The longer I stayed away, the messier I found it really was. But I...I was scared of what would happen if I tried to come back. In truth, I thought it would only make things worse – give you more of a reason to be distant to me, and the potential for more fights. So I tried to connect with the children through gifts, which was all I could do when every time I thought about coming back to the house I felt like I was handwriting myself a death sentence."

She turned away from him, suddenly feeling unable to look him in the face anymore as her eyes began to prick with a familiar heat.

"But it wasn't a death sentence...the more I think about it, the more I think it would have saved me."

He reached out for her and awkwardly pulled her back to him. They had been separated for thirty years, and it had taken this long for either of them to open up – he wasn't going to let her escape again.

"That day," he began softly, "The day you left... I was afraid to come home. I wanted our marriage to work, I wanted to stop fighting with you... so I was going to propose to go to couple therapy."

B.B. gasped in a breath, not quite being able to hide how much his words hurt. So he had wanted them to work as a couple? He had been late because he was looking for a way to save their marriage?

The knowledge of this was far more painful than she'd ever expected it would be.

She remembered the night she left as if it were yesterday – she had just gotten out of the shower, it was late at night and Stewart hadn't come home. They had been fighting tirelessly for weeks then, and the emptiness in her chest – and in her bed – had been too much for her to bear.

She remembered taking her suitcases and filling them with everything she had – she wanted him to forget her, to have nothing that could suggest that she'd once lived there...

But it had been hard… she hadn't wanted to cry, she had wanted to remain calmed and collected through her packing, but the tears had made their appearance the moment she wrote the goodbye note to him.

"How ironic," the older socialite eventually spoke, glancing at her barren ring finger. She remembered she had left her wedding band right on top of the note, too. "The day you decided to get help, was the day I left... I always had a penchant for ruining things."

"No... don't say that! It wasn't just your fault – it was ours. We... we were drifting apart, bit by bit, and we didn't do anything to stop that. We didn't talk about it, we simply hid the dirt underneath the carpet."

She nodded, and once again snuggled closer to him. It was true, they had drifted apart... but why hadn't they talked? In hindsight it seemed stupid.

"What I could never understand," he added, "Was what happened to you. When we split up you weren't same woman I married – you had changed. Why did you change? You once were so full of dreams, and love, and hope..."

"I had to grow up, Stewart," she cut him off in a clipped voice. "I had roles to fulfil – I had to be a wife, a mother, a hostess... I couldn't be the same naive girl you married when I had to be all those things."

"You didn't have to change for me," he shook his head softly. "Not for me. Not to fulfil any expectations so-called 'high society' tried to impose on you and on every other woman born into a family with a powerful name. And especially not for yourself. You were trying so hard to think about the things that your family wanted that you forgot about what you wanted. You forgot about what I wanted, too. And I never cared for any of the things that everyone we surrounded ourselves with thought a married woman should be. There was so much more to us than that, B.B.. We had each other, and we had our children...and that's all I really wanted."

This stung somewhere in B.B.'s chest. She felt more foolish than ever. He'd never cared about what society really expected of them, and she'd cared far too much. And they'd never talked about any of it. That had been the root of it all. Never talking it over.

She wondered what would have happened if they had. Well, they would still be here, most likely – saving a marriage couldn't prevent cancer. But they might have been a closer-knit family, gathering round to support C.C. as she needed right away. As she had deserved, and had been lacking for so long...

"...That's all I should have wanted, too," she muttered. "I was such a fool, Stewart. I couldn't see how everything could go so badly wrong, and yet it has. I know C.C.'s illness has nothing to do with this, but I can't help but wonder how things would have turned out if..."

Stewart turned to look at her, a glint of something that looked very much like hope in his eyes, "If...?"

"If we'd just tried," she finished. "If we'd just decided to ignore how afraid we both were, and tried to talk."

Stewart smiled – it was a soft smile, one that was full of hope and promises. It seemed he wasn't the only one who had wondered what might have happened if they had done things differently.

He remembered that, in the note, she had asked him not to follow her; now he still couldn't understand why he had acquiesced her wish. If he could go back in time, he would run after her, he would go to her and convince her to come back...

But he couldn't do that. He could only move forward and try to fix his mistakes.

"It's never too late to try, Ocean Eyes," he said, resting his head against hers.

"We've been separated for thirty years, Stewart, I don thi-"

"And we were together for twenty – twenty five if we count the years we dated," he cut her off. "I think it's time to try, for once in our lives, to talk about what happened. About what we did wrong. It hasn't just affected us, B.B., it has affected our children, too. Look at what happened with C.C. – she didn't feel like telling us that she had cancer! Not talking about things has only broken us as a family – that's why we need to change. If not for us, but for our children."

He was right... she knew he was right. But she was still afraid. What would happen once they'd discussed everything? Would it lead to the conclusion that their marriage was a mistake? That the love they had once had, had been in vain? Or would it show that they had had a chance? A chance that they had wasted...

She didn't exactly know which option was worse.

But maybe it was time to be brave. Maybe it was time to truly address the elephant in the room after so many years of silence.

"I know... and you are right," she looked up at him, dazzling him with her beautiful eyes. He had always loved her eyes... "Why didn't you go after me? There was a part of me that hoped you would... why didn't you?"

"Because I thought I was too late. I'd been too late with the idea for the therapy. I thought you were so unhappy being married to me that I became afraid I'd make things worse if I did go after you," he explained. "I loved you. I wanted you to be happy, and if that didn't involve being with me, especially after all our fights, then so be it."

He had put her first...above the happiness he would have felt at her returning, because he thought she felt better off without him.

He'd said he'd "loved" her. _Past tense_. She felt her heart sink at that – the last time she'd heard him say anything like that, it had been present tense. She wondered if the feelings, as well as the words, had changed.

"You really only wanted me to be happy?" she asked.

Stewart was at a loss for words; he could only nod in reply. All he'd ever wanted, from the time he'd met her onwards, was for her to be happy. And whatever that meant he had to do, he had done it and tried to do it without complaint.

Hesitating only for a second, she reached a hand up to cup his cheek, stroking it softly with her thumb. It had been so long since she had, just like so many other things in their relationship. Stewart didn't pull away, either. That was a good sign, at least.

Maybe it was a sign that, no matter what happened when she asked what she wanted to ask, the answer might not be so bad after all.

She swallowed before speaking, "Do you still think we have a chance?"

He covered her hand with his own. It was her left hand... the one on which she had once carried his rings. He smiled softly as he remembered the time when he had proposed to her – when B.B. was young, she adored pearls, so he had bought her a gorgeous engagement ring that was a huge pearl surrounded by diamonds and set in white gold.

It was a beautiful ring, and B.B. had used it every day of her life until they'd separated. But unlike her wedding band, she had taken it with her.

He couldn't help but wonder what she had done with it...

"I don't know if we do," he began, entwining their fingers together. "We still have a lot to discuss, but we'll never know if we don't try. Now, the question I must ask you is if you want to try."

Trying... it had been ages since she had last thought about trying.

During these past months they had reconnected, they had discovered that they still got along, and that maybe... maybe they weren't over what had happened between them.

No, scratch that, she was sure they weren't over what had happened between them.

That's probably why none of the few relationships she had had in the past decades had worked – none of the men she had dated had thrilled like Stewart did, none of them had his sense of humour, none of them had swept her off her feet like Stewart had.

Yes... maybe trying was all they needed.

And maybe, just maybe, they could have a chance.

"I think... I think I want to try and fix things between us, Stewart," she said in a small voice.

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "You know, I want to try and fix things, too."

"But why?" she asked. "Why now and not before?"

The older Babcock sighed. "I don't know... I guess that, after what happened with C.C., I realised life was short and that I had wasted too much time worrying about things that didn't matter – about people that didn't matter," he tightened his grip on her. "And, even though it might come as a surprise to you, I still care a lot for you – I married you, we have children together, and you are the most important woman in my life apart from our two daughters. And I guess... well... seeing you every day, and seeing how in love Niles and C.C. are I-"

"In love?! They told you they are in love?!" B.B. yelled.

Her yelling made him start, and he released her in order to clutch at his own chest. After catching his breath, he held out a hand and made to grip at her arms again to prevent her from moving too suddenly. She could go anywhere if she caught him off-guard and got up and left. And the first place she'd probably go was straight to the butler and their daughter and demand to know everything before insisting that whatever that 'everything' was had to stop immediately.

"No, B.B, they didn't," he answered firmly, hoping she wasn't panicking so much that she wasn't listening. When she turned to face him again instead of trying to get up and hurry back inside the hospital, he continued. "But anyone who's looking at them can see that they are. The way they look at one another, talk to one another...the way they hold each other, when C.C.'s in pain, and when they're dancing. That is love, B.B.. Pure and simple. And seeing them together, after having been confirmed enemies the last time I saw them, made me think that perhaps anything is possible."

B.B. sat back in her seat, winded not only by the talk that they'd had so far, but also by the thought of her daughter and the servant really being... _together_ , in that way. She had noticed all of the things that Stewart had mentioned, but she had tried her hardest to ignore all the signs that had been pointed to. The butler helping her daughter to recover should have been where the line was drawn, but said line was obviously something that existed only in her own head.

She frowned.

That wasn't right! She just couldn't let her daughter make the mistake of getting involved with the hired help. C.C. was a Babcock, came from not one but two powerful families – the Babcocks and B.B.'s family – and deserved a lot better that a butler.

"Well, it's not right! And he should know better that to take advantage of-"

"Barbara, don't you dare!" Stewart cut her off. "He didn't take advantage of C.C. and our daughter is old enough to make her own decisions – but you are missing the point."

The older socialite folded her arms across her chest. "And what would the point be?"

"That they are in love – just like we once were."

"The only difference is that you come from a good family! The butler is a no one!"

Stewart sighed in exasperation. They were fighting again... and if he didn't put a stop to this fight, the small chance they had to try and fix things between them would fly right out of the window.

No. He had to be the voice of reason here.

"And it doesn't matter! Barbara, stop caring so much about property – think about what C.C. wants... about what I want," he cupped her cheeks and rested his forehead against hers. "My only wish is her to be safe and happy – Niles makes her happy. I want her to find a good man who will make her the happiest woman on Earth. I want her to be able to find a man who she wants to make the happiest man on Earth, too. Just like you made me."

B.B.'s eyes widened slightly and Stewart could detect a new glimmer in them. He remembered seeing that very same glimmer when he first told her that he loved her.

"I... I made you that happy?" she asked softly.

"As I said, you made me the happiest man on Earth. Did I make you happy, too?"

"More than words can say," she breathed out.

And it was true – they had made each other happier than either one of them could really express. Before all the fighting, and the messiness that came with the relationship of two people who were drifting apart, they had been almost deliriously happy.

"Good," Stewart began to smile again, and gripped her hand. "And I think that, if we try to talk things over, we could...we could have that again."

B.B. felt her heart leap in her chest. He was willing to try fixing things – just as much as she was. They could be happy again, and together, if everything went the best possible way.

All they had to do was try.

"I'd like that, very much," she nodded, tears once again forming in her eyes. Though these ones were not borne of pain – they came from happiness; the overwhelming happiness that came from the hope of one last chance.

"Then I suggest we should get going," Stewart checked his watch. "Visiting hours will be over soon, anyway...would you care to join me for some dinner? We...we can start talking, if you want."

B.B. started to beam through the now freefalling tears, and nodded. She did want that, and the sooner they started, the better. The sooner they'd find out if they still had a chance, and the less chance of anyone being hurt quite so badly if it was found they didn't.

They rose from the bench, hand in hand for the first time in years, and leisurely began to make their way towards the exit.

* * *

 **AN: Hello thete! Both of us are officially on vacation now! So expect more updates from the both of us. Seeing as many of you liked the Stewart/B.B. tidbit, here you got another! Besides, this will be of importance when it comes to B.B.'s acceptance of Niles in the future. You'll see.**

 **Anyway, we hope you enjoyed the chapter :) We'd love to get your reviews (lol, they'd make a greeeeat Christmas present!) and we thank you for reading our story.**

 **H &L**


	11. Chapter 11

**_Chapter 11_**

 ** _Now I Know_**

Contrary to what Niles would have expected, neither Noel nor Wilson commented anything about the identity of the donor. He had been resilient about letting his guard down, but apparently the two men had no more tricks under their sleeves.

At least that's what it looked like…

The news of C.C. having found a march had been thoroughly celebrated by her family and the Sheffields, and soon after the news had been made public, Niles had put his plan in action, his accomplices being the Sheffields, Noel and Dr Wilson.

He had put on a show of him getting a cold as soon as C.C. had been told about the donor, and had successfully managed to convince the blonde – as well as her parents – that he needed to go home and rest.

C.C. had insisted on him taking care of himself by alleging she could spend a few says without him. Not to get her wrong he did need him with her, but he had to think of his own health, too.

Niles had protested a bit just to keep up appearances, but he had eventually gone home putting on a show of reluctance. Next thing C.C. knew, was that the butler had a fever and that he was unfit to visit her for a few days. The Sheffields had told Niles that C.C. wasn't really happy about it, but she was coping, and the increased presence of both Noel and her parents also helped.

His stay at the hospital had been a short but boring one. The procedure had been fairly simple – after he had been admitted to the hospital, they had anaesthetised the area of his hips, inserted a needle into his hipbone and removed 1lt of bone marrow. That had been it. He had been told he'd probably be sore for a few days but that apart from that there were no other consequences he should worry about.

He left the hospital as soon as he was able, and returned to the Sheffield mansion to put away the things he'd taken with him for his stay.

Of course, he was also preparing for what he would do the very next day: go to see C.C. again. The few days without her had been long, and boring. He now had a vague idea of how C.C. must have felt in the hospital without any visitors to come see her, and with very little to do, even if her stay had been far longer than his own. It was good that he had people he could ask about how the producer had been coping without him for the first few days before he went in because it meant he had a vague idea of what she thought. But it didn't keep him from wondering about how she was every minute of the day when he was in for his donation; if she was missing him, if she was wondering how he was coping without her...

That last one might have been a bit of a stretch, even for him. But she did reportedly ask how he was, and if his sudden illness was getting any better. He hoped she'd be glad he was better, if aching, when he went to visit her again.

And it would all be more than worth it, if this treatment worked.

It seemed almost ironic, he thought to himself with a chuckle as he put the clothes he had taken with him into a laundry basket for later, that he had only just come out of a hospital, and now he was going to turn around and go straight back in.

But C.C. was there, so he'd do it gladly. After not having seen her in so many days, she could have been standing at the gates of Hell, beckoning him in, and he would have gone with a smile on his face.

He couldn't wait to see how she was, ready and waiting for her treatment. And he couldn't wait to see if it had the intended effect, either.

But he had to be patient, he told himself. The transplant wouldn't be done until weeks from then, and C.C. still had to stay at the hospital for a little while longer until she was allowed to go home. The only good news were that she only had two more chemo session to go, and then – hopefully – she wouldn't need to subject herself to that anymore.

Of course then came the hardest part – to see if she entered in remission. Wilson had said that it was the most likely outcome seeing as her cancer had been caught on time and that she had been properly treated for her illness, but the ghost of something going wrong was always there, lurking in the back of his mind.

He shook himself out of his depressing thoughts – he had just donated bone marrow to save her, he couldn't possibly be thinking about a scenario in which she didn't get better! The butler slowly made his way back to bed – the doctors had told him he would be sore, and it was no wonder seeing as they had inserted a syringe into his hipbone – and lied down, setting a few pillows behind him so he was sat partially upright. He then grabbed the phone and dialled the hospital's number – he had promised C.C. he would call her when he was 'feeling better', and seeing as he was planning on going to see her tomorrow, calling her now seemed like the most logical thing to do.

The tone buzzed for a few seconds until a receptionist answered, and after detailing who he was and with what patient he wished to speak, his call was derived to C.C.'s room. Niles could feel his heartbeat increasing by the second, and he was sure it almost burst the moment he heard her say 'hello'.

"Hello there, Babcock," he said, forcing his voice so it sounded slightly hoarse. "How are you doing?"

"Niles! I think it's me who should be asking that! How are you feeling? Have you gone to the doctor?" her voice was permeated with worry, and had Niles been in her room, he would have noticed the amused stares both Dr Wilson and Noel were giving the woman.

"I am fine, it was just a cold. I went to the hospital a few days ago and they gave me a clean bill of health. I'll be back there pestering you tomorrow."

To say that C.C. was smiling would have been a gross understatement – she was beaming all over her face. The days without Niles had been extremely boring and hard, and the pain she had had to endure after her last chemo session had been the worst by far – the butler hadn't been there to hold her, so it was no wonder. But now he was coming back, and that was what mattered!

But even though she wished the conversation to last forever – she had missed his voice too much as it was – her doctor had to place her IV in place so as to start yet another chemo session; hopefully one of her last. After exchanging a few more zingers and saying goodbye to him, she hung up the phone, but not before promising to pick up the verbal sparring tomorrow. She was glad that he was coming back, she'd need him to bear the side effects of the treatment.

"Finally! I thought your conversation would never end," Wilson huffed, putting his rubber gloves on. "How is he doing, by the way?"

"He is fine! He said he went to the hospital and-"

It happened in a second – Noel and Wilson exchanged a look and nodded minutely; the time to put their plan in action had finally come. After their talk the day C.C. had been informed about the donor, Noel and Wilson had agreed that, in order for those two to stop uselessly circling each other and finally get together, they'd have to act. They had come up with a brilliant, but subtle plan of action, and they had only had to wait until the right opportunity presented itself.

And here it was, served on a silver plate.

"Oh, so he told you the truth? He told you why he really went to the hospital?" Noel asked, feigning surprise. "I didn't think he would!"

"Neither did I," Wilson piped up. "It looks like he changed his mind about it."

C.C.'s face screwed up in confusion. What were Niles and Noel talking about? Niles had…lied to her? Why? And about what? And why did Dr Wilson and Noel look so surprise? What did they know that she didn't?!

"What… what are you talking about?" she stammered out.

There was a silence in the room, one that seemed to seep into their very skin. It was Wilson who eventually broke it with a sigh, and grabbed C.C.'s hand in an almost comforting manner, drawing her attention to him.

"Niles wasn't sick," the doctor started, "He actually had to be away for a few days so as to make a bone marrow donation," the oncologist looked into C.C.'s eyes, now full of tears and understanding, "He is the match we found for you – he is the person who is saving your life."

The producer's mouth dropped open, and she suddenly found herself unable to speak. Niles? All along, it had been Niles?

He had sat there and celebrated right along with her when Dr Wilson had said that a donor had been found. He'd grinned in happiness when she said she had a saviour out there somewhere and agreed with her without missing a single beat. He must have known then – but why didn't he tell her? There didn't seem to be any reasonable explanation for him keeping quiet over something like this! She could feel part of herself becoming angry, and confused, as to why he didn't say anything, and she looked down, away from the doctor and her brother, shaking her head minutely.

"But...why didn't he tell me?" she suddenly glared up at Wilson again. "He told you so he could make the donation – why didn't he want me to know?"

Wilson replaced her hand on her lap, and settled his in his own, "I believe Mr Brightmore's exact reasoning might have been that he felt you would...take offence, at a donation coming from him. He didn't want you to think it was done out of pity, and refuse the procedure."

She wanted to argue that she'd be a fool to refuse a donation from anyone, even from someone she knew, but she also understood the point being made, and her shoulders slumped in defeated understanding. She didn't even want anyone from the outside world to know at first, so why would she allow anyone she knew well to kick things up a notch and save her life like that?

"He also might have mentioned that he didn't want you to feel like you owed him anything for it," Noel joined in, his understanding smile holding back the beam he wanted to let loose. "Or that he was taking advantage of your condition."

She exhaled, and dropped her gaze to her lap, fumbling with her hands. Niles had saved her, because he wanted to, and he didn't want her to know about it...

"But why?" she asked. Surely he didn't-

Her thoughts were interrupted by Wilson shifting on the bed to look at her more directly.

"Come on, Babcock, I think we all know the answer to that one, don't we?"

Yes... they did.

More importantly, she did.

It was something that had been going around in her mind for quite some time now, but she hadn't been brave enough to truly think about it. But now that she had been showed the length to which Niles was willing to take things in order to save her life, she couldn't keep ignoring the fact he was in love with her.

Even thinking about it was weird... but it felt good. She had known Niles wasn't just a concerned friend, not after his actions suggested his motives were guided by love – a love he felt for her. He had stayed by her side during most of her worse days, he had held her when the pain had been too much for her to bear, he had entertained her whenever the monotony of the hospital got the best of her, and now... now he was giving her a second chance, and expecting nothing in return.

She felt tears running down her cheeks, and she simply laid back against her pillow, floored by the revelation she had just heard. The man who had been her enemy and then her friend, was in love with her.

 _Niles loved her..._

And why didn't it exactly feel like a surprise?

In hindsight, she had always suspected it, but she had never been brave enough to admit it or event think about it. She also knew that the reason behind this was that, if she accepted that Niles loved her, she would be forced to analyse the feelings she had for him.

She knew, of course, but one thing was knowing, and another was accepting those feelings.

This... thing they had going on had started long before she had gotten sick, but due to the circumstances of their lives she had never actually stopped for a minute to even consider what she felt for the butler. The dancing, their dates, the kiss in the den... those were hints that she should have taken into account.

Ironically, it had been her illness what had finally given her the strength she needed to let him in. Granted, it hadn't been a conscious act, but she now realised why she had accepted Niles' offer of supporting her through her treatment.

She now understood why his touch was soothing when she was in pain, she now understood why she liked having him around and why she had given him medical power of attorney...

She trusted him, and she'd be damned, but love had a lot to do with her wanting him near, too.

C.C. was not ready to say it aloud, at least not to anyone but herself, and perhaps, to the butler.

"Yes... I think we do," she eventually said, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

The producer then closed her eyes and snuggled under the covers, letting only her arm out so Wilson could put her IV in place and start the dripping.

Both Noel and Wilson understood this was their cue to shut up and leave her alone with her thoughts so, after the oncologist had finished with the IV, both men quietly left the room, praying that their meddling meant that these two finally found a way to be together.

* * *

Niles couldn't believe he was back at the hospital, the time he had been away had felt almost like an eternity! He almost didn't hear the nurses' greetings as he made her way to her room in auto pilot; his mind could only focus on her.

He knew she was going to be in pain, she had had a chemo session yesterday, so the prospect of holding her in his arms was enough to lift his spirits. He wasn't happy for her pain, of course, but he was happy about the fact that he was going to hold her in his arms after having missed her like he had.

You can imagine his surprise when he entered the room and found that C.C. – unlike what had been happening since her parents and the Sheffields had found out about her cancer – was alone in her room, sitting on her bed with her arms crossed across her front and (although it was clear that the pain was making it difficult for her to keep herself together) had an almost unreadable look in her eyes.

Her posture reminded him of the one she adopted whenever she had to deal with important backers – it reminded him of when she had to discuss a matter of vital importance.

"I think we need to talk," she said before he could even say 'hello'. "I know what you did and I think we can't pretend that it didn't happen, so come here and hold me as you usually do after every chemo session so we can talk about you donating your bone marrow."

Niles froze, but everything in him felt like it had suddenly just dropped to the floor.

She knew. Someone had told her. No doubt that certain "someone" was very pleased with himself, too, especially after having promised over and over again as they'd bought the coffee that he wouldn't tell his sister about what Niles intended to do.

Why had Noel gone back on his promise? What did he think could possibly be the result of this?

"I-I...uh," he managed to stammer out, perhaps trying to form a coherent explanation that just wouldn't come. Not that he really had a chance to go any further, because C.C. calmly raised one hand to request his silence before she spoke again.

"Get over here first, and then start trying to come up with something to say, okay?" she didn't sound angry, just tired, and resolved for a long conversation.

Niles took the lack of any rage in her tone as a hint of a good sign, nodded, and slowly made his way towards her. He seated himself next to her, and gingerly placed his arms around her. She leaned into him, getting comfortable, but she was soon frowning.

"Try to relax, would you? It's like leaning on a statue," she muttered, glancing up at him. "I'm not mad, if that helps."

It did somewhat, and Niles breathed out to try and calm himself, before quietly asking, "Who told you?"

"Noel, and Dr Wilson," she replied. "They said you wanted to remain anonymous because you didn't want me to think of this as a pity donation, and that you felt, if I knew, that you'd be trapping me into owing you something by doing this."

Niles hung his head, sighing, "Yes."

"So it is true, then," the producer shifted herself so that she could look him in the face, frowning. "I mean, I believed them when they told me that's what you'd told them, but...I guess I needed confirmation."

The butler nodded. Of course she'd want to hear it from him as well, just to make sure.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm still a little upset you didn't tell me," C.C. continued, and Niles felt a slight stabbing pain in his chest. "But I also understand why you didn't and, like I said, I'm not mad. I'm actually really grateful. You did all of this without expecting anything in return, which is more than can be said for most people."

Niles lifted his head again, and C.C. lifted herself up to meet his eyes with her own.

"There is one more thing I still need confirming, though," she murmured, almost seeming afraid or embarrassed, and she swallowed and bit the inside of her lip before finishing. "Why did you do all of this for me?"

There was a part of him that wanted to lie and say something like _"I did it because I care"_ or _"I did it because you are my friend"_ , but he knew better. The butler could sense that wasn't the answer she was expecting, and he doubted he'd sound truthful enough to make her believe those were his reasons even if he tried his best.

Besides, she knew they were going to have this conversation since she had been told he was her donor, so all the questions she did, must have been carefully thought and analysed in depth before she'd decided to make them. He supposed she had a clue of why he had done it, and that made him feel incredibly terrified. What if she didn't return his feelings? Could he handle the rejection? And if that was the case, what would happen with them? He wouldn't be able to come and visit her and he was certain he wasn't going to be allowed to hold her anymore, and that felt like a destiny worse than an eternity in hell.

He was shaking, and although part of him wished to cast her eyes away from her, he simply couldn't do it. There was something in her eyes, a certain... hope? Dare he say so? It was like a magnet, pulling his eyes to hers.

He felt his breath catching in his throat when she calmly took his hand in hers and entwined them together. It was as though she was trying to show him that everything was okay, that he could share the truth with her...

And really, her touch combined with the closeness of their bodies and the look in her eyes sealed the deal.

"Why do you think I did it?" he asked, taking his other had to her cheek and brushing his fingers against it.

"I have an idea, but if we are going to enter a new stage in our relationship, I need to hear it from you."

Niles' heart skipped a beat when she said she had a clue, let alone when she referred to what they had as a 'relationship' – he actually thought his heart was about to stop in that moment. He took a deep, calming breath and tightened his grip on her, bracing himself for what he was about to confess. This was, probably, the most important conversation of his entire life, hence him dreading it going wrong.

"Alright... I did it because... because I love you," he sighed again, feeling his heart thumping against his chest. "I truly do."

The seconds spent in silence felt like an eternity, but eventually C.C. smiled.

"You know... I think I love you, too."

And without giving him time to process her words, she pulled him down for a kiss, trying to pour in it all the love she felt for him.

It stunned him, but only for a split second, as he registered the feeling of her soft lips on his, and melted into the kiss, allowing it to deepen. C.C. moaned softly, and slipped her hand out of his, caressing along his sleeve to snake her arm up and around his shoulders and pull him in closer. He responded in kind, fervently, by pulling her towards him, and the hand that now found itself free slipped to grip her waist, his other arm wrapping fully around her back.

Eventually they had to pull away for air, but remained in each other's embrace, not talking just yet, and enjoying the sound of each other's heavy breathing as they rested. They could almost swear the other would be able to hear their heart beating, too, given that they were thudding so forcefully in their chests.

The hand that Niles had placed on C.C.'s hip gently made its way up to her cheek, stroking it softly, and he smiled at her, beginning to laugh. Looking him in the eye, the producer began to chuckle as well, and removed her hand from his shoulder to take his hand in hers again.

Mere months ago, if anyone had told either of them that they would have had quite possibly the best kiss in their lives in a hospital room, with each other, in this exact scenario, they would have scoffed at them. And now...now, the idea didn't seem ridiculous at all. It seemed a long time coming, as a matter of fact – what seemed unbelievable was the fact that they had taken so long to get to where they were.

"Nothing quite like a life-threatening disease to bring two people together, is there?" she joked. Niles tried to look unamused, but right then he was too happy for other reasons to really concern himself so much with what C.C. had just said.

"Nothing like it in the world," he eventually ended up agreeing, before planting another kiss on her lips, and the two were soon lost again to the outside world, absorbed only in each other and the feeling of love that surrounded them.

It was a good thing, too, otherwise they might have noticed Dr Wilson fist-pumping outside the door.

The oncologist tiptoed to the door and looked at the couple. They were lost in their little, blissful world, and it was beautiful. The way he held her, the way she smiled up at him as they exchanged little kisses, their soft laughs as they embraced…

They had gone through so much, those two – it hadn't been just her cancer, but also years that had been wasted pretending that they hated the other when that was clearly untrue!

But now it was over, that was the past, and from now on they would face everything together. The doctor carefully closed the door behind him and walked down the corridor, stopping Nurse Cameron, who was running to C.C.'s room because the monitors had registered her heartbeat increasing not one but three times in the last ten minutes.

They deserved their privacy, and after having spent so long trying to get them together, he was going to let them have this little while for the two of them.

And, he thought to himself as he gave Nurse Cameron a once over and laced their arms together, he now might start working on another relationship he wanted to happen.

"Cameron, mind if I invite you out for a drink?"


	12. Chapter 12

**_Chapter 12_**

 ** _Through My Eyes_**

"Take it easy, Babcock!" Niles protested, helping the producer – who had practically jumped out of bed – to the wheelchair.

But who could blame her? Finally, after having spent eight months at the hospital, she was going home! And although C.C. knew it was temporary, for she had to go back when the time to receive her transplant came, she was trying her hardest to focus on how nice it was to finally go back home. Everybody was there for her big day; the Sheffields, her parents, Niles, her brother... and the press.

That kind of spoiled the mood, really.

The producer was happy to go back to her penthouse, but she wished that there wasn't a horde of paparazzi outside of the hospital, all eagerly awaiting to feast on her unwell appearance the moment she stepped a foot outside the clinic.

Even though C.C. was a lot healthier than when she first went into the hospital, her treatment had weakened to the point of her still needing to be looked after, so it had been agreed that Niles would temporarily move in with her until it was time for her to go back to the hospital. He was obviously the best choice – he could take care of most of her needs, knew what medication she was taking and, most importantly, C.C. felt comfortable around him.

The producer had also refused the Sheffields' offer to live in the mansion alleging that she didn't want to give them any trouble, especially when Fran was pregnant with twins and needed to be looked after herself. The real reason behind her refusal, however, was that both she and Niles just wanted to be alone now that they were a couple.

And speaking of that, they hadn't told anyone but Wilson and Noel about their relationship – it was still too new and they wanted to keep it private for a little while before going public. Much to their surprise (which also made them slightly suspicious) they had reached their two month anniversary and Wilson had been pretty well-behaved; he had refrained from making any insinuations or smart comments about their new relationship in front of C.C.'s parents and the Sheffields. That didn't mean he didn't make them at all – far from it, in fact. Wilson had actually taken to call C.C. "Mrs Brightmore" whenever the Sheffields or her parents weren't around.

Although both Niles and C.C. were extremely grateful with Wilson both for getting them together and treating C.C., they couldn't wait to get away from the hospital so as to have some privacy. They wanted to just enjoy their relationship without having to hear the oncologist's comments or having to limit their demonstrations of affect due to the visits from the Sheffields and her parents.

And the day had finally arrived…

"Do you need help, Kitten?" Stewart asked, extending a hand to his child, who was attempting to get to her wheelchair on her own although Niles was by her side in case she needed help.

"Please, Stewart, our daughter can manage on her own, she is strong!" B.B. cut in, knowing C.C. would resent being treated with kitten gloves when she was so close to going back to her 'normal' life for a while.

"Yeah, listen to her!" Wilson piped up as he breezed into the room. "Mrs Brightmore can manage on her own. Oh, pardon me, I meant Miss Babcock!"

 _Of course he had one last shenanigan under his sleeve…_

C.C. blinked, disbelieving as she collapsed into the chair, "You didn't just-"

Niles' mouth fell open, "We haven't told..."

The doctor just smirked at them, and B.B. and Stewart exchanged confused looks; between each other, and then between the doctor, Noel, the Sheffields, their daughter, and the butler.

"Who is Mrs Brightmore?" B.B. asked. "Is that someone we know?"

Wilson made a noise which he would have defended as being a cough, but Niles and C.C. knew was a stifled laugh. He thudded himself in the chest, looking very convincing at not being amused by the entire situation he'd just created.

"I don't know 'er," Fran replied. "Anyone in this room know a Mrs Brightmore?"

"Not me," Noel piped up, catching a glance at the doctor, who was trying to regain his composure, and grinned. He knew what Wilson was getting at – he'd managed to have a word with him beforehand, and had discovered Niles' last name in the process.

"Nor me, either," Maxwell said, furrowing his brow as though trying to remember why something about the name seemed so familiar.

"There isn't a Mrs Brightmore in here," Niles explained calmly, silencing everyone's spoken thoughts on this new and unfamiliar name. "...Brightmore happens to be my last name."

"Oh!" Maxwell's eyes widened in realisation. "That's where I'd heard it before! Of course it's your last name, Old Man! I remember now, my own father was always yelling "Brightmore!" after your father-"

"But why did Dr Wilson then call C.C. "Mrs Brightmore"?" Stewart's voice interrupted Maxwell, and the Babcock patriarch looked to the doctor for an explanation.

Wilson, having apparently fully "recovered", raised his hands in a defensive manner, and took a step back, "It was a slip of the tongue on my part, which can be better explained by your daughter and Mr Brightmore, I'm sure."

"You're a real pal, you know that?" C.C. muttered to him bitterly, leaning her arm on the arm of the wheelchair as Dr Wilson suddenly "remembered" he'd left something in his office and left to go get it, forcing Niles to pull C.C. back into the chair as she made to stand up and yell at him. "Just leave that part up to us, why don't you!"

She fell back into the seat, and felt Niles grip her shoulder supportively. She was glad he was there. She'd need his help to get through what was to follow, she was sure.

Soon enough, her father's voice came again, "Kitten, what did the doctor mean when he said that you and Niles could explain?"

The butler and the producer exchanged one last look. C.C. took in a deep breath, and began to speak.

"We were going to wait for a better time to tell you all. Probably when I wasn't quite so sick. But, seeing as we've been backed into a little bit of a corner, we might as well tell you now: we are a couple."

After those words had left her mouth, the couple witnessed the people around them having different, but equally amusing, reactions to the news.

Noel was basically beaming and looked very pleased with himself – which was no wonder considering the part he had played in getting them together.

Stewart's face denoted shock for a moment, then it morphed to confusion and finally a soft, knowing smile spread through his lips. He had long suspected something was going on between Niles and his daughter, and although them starting a relationship when she was so sick wasn't exactly the best that could have happened, he was happy for them. His daughter had been alone for far too long, and it was obvious from what he had seen that this man was worthy of her.

Maxwell and Fran looked positively thrilled about the news, and the latter was actually clapping in delight and had leaned forward to embrace the butler. They had seen it coming, in a sense, but they hadn't thought it would happen so soon. They had long noticed the change in their behaviour towards each other, but they had thought that it would take them longer to actually take that step and become a couple. They had seen them fight, bicker and prank each other... and now, after having seen him hold her and comfort her through her treatment, it was clear that there was no going back.

And last, but not least, was B.B. Babcock.

Her expression was one of pure shock. The woman was stood still, unable to move a muscle or even blink – her daughter had finally gotten involved with the servant! A servant! The older socialite was torn between yelling at the butler, and weeping. She knew the butler was a good man – she had concluded so by how careful and gentle he had been with her daughter – but he was a butler, and C.C. was a Babcock.

She had to protest, to put the man in his proper pla-

"Before you say anything, Mother," C.C. said, sensing her mother wasn't exactly pleased with the news. "There is something you need to know. Remember when Niles was sick? Well, he wasn't really sick, he actually had to spend a few days at the hospital so he could donate bone marrow to save me. He didn't tell me – actually an obnoxiously nosey doctor did – because he didn't want me to feel I owed him something or that the donation was made out of pity. So, Mother," she made a pause and looked straight into B.B.'s eyes. "Think what you are going to say about the man to whom you owe your daughter's life."

B.B. looked for a moment as though someone had just slapped her, but it was gone in an instant, and she looked over at Niles, with his hand still on C.C.'s shoulder, and C.C.'s hand now covering his in a show of solidarity.

The producer had been through so much, and she'd let this man in, perhaps admittedly rightly so, because she trusted him. That had helped her, somewhat – B.B. could see it, more and more, every time she went to see her daughter. The life had come back to her, and she seemed more comfortable around him than around anyone else. And he did seem the trustworthy sort, especially when it came to C.C.'s health.

But she hadn't seen that he could be more than just trustworthy for C.C.. He could actually be her salvation.

And he hadn't expected a thing in return.

"You donated bone marrow..." it was a statement, not a question, but Niles nodded silently at her anyway, entwining his fingers with C.C.'s.

B.B. took a step forward, and nearly everyone in the room held their breath as she began to advance towards Niles.

Stewart made to reach out and stop her, "B.B.-"

She ignored him, pulling away from his grasp, continuing one slow step at a time in the direction of the butler. Niles almost stayed where he was, moving only to gently push C.C.'s chair out of the way as the producer protested. The chair was caught and held onto by Maxwell and Fran, and suddenly there was nothing blocking the way between B.B. and Niles.

The socialite took in a shuddering breath, "A better servant would have known his place and kept out of this matter and this family."

Protest began to erupt all around her at this, but she held up a hand to silence them, as though she were a queen, and somehow, it worked.

"I am glad you are not a better servant," B.B. began, her voice cracking as she spoke. "Because otherwise my daughter would be here by herself, waiting for a donor that might never come. And instead, she has her family and no small amount of love. And no matter what you do, or where your station in life might be, I have to be grateful for that."

Now _that_ was a curveball!

To say they were surprised by B.B.'s reaction would have been a gross understatement – they were baffled, absolutely shocked to the core...

B.B. was known to be a vicious, deadly woman who took pleasure in crushing others and who had an old-fashioned and prejudiced view of the world and of what was proper and improper. Hence them never expecting her to actually thank the butler for his selfless act after she had just been told that he – a servant, no less – was dating her daughter.

Even Niles was surprised, but he allowed the edges of his mouth to curve into a small smile. He understood B.B.'s way of thinking, perhaps better than anyone else in the room. He had grown up in a household where he was constantly being reminded of what his place was, and he knew that for a woman like B.B. it wasn't easy to just accept a relationship that she considered 'improper'. However, it seemed that after having been told that he had virtually saved her daughter's life, the woman was willing to at least tolerate it.

That made a world of difference.

The older socialite smiled back at the butler and then extended a hand at him. It kind of reminded C.C. of when a defeated army waved a white flag after a long and hard war came to an end.

And, in a way, B.B. was admitting defeat. The older socialite knew from what she had seen that no argument would be enough to convince her child that she should aim for so much more than just a mere butler, and she also knew she had no right to even try to do so, either. C.C., just like her brother and father, had never agreed with her outdated prejudices – a proof of that was that she had actually chosen to work instead of marrying straight out of high school – and she wasn't about break up with a man who clearly loved her just because her mother was against the intermixing of social classes.

She knew that if C.C. had to choose between her and Niles, she'd choose him over her any day. And the one to blame for that was no one but herself. There was no sense in fighting a battle she couldn't win... so she supposed that, as the saying goes, if she couldn't beat them, she might as well join them.

She preferred to tolerate her child dating a domestic before losing her – truth to be told, she had chosen to do so because C.C.'s illness had taught her that she wanted to be in her life, no matter what.

Maybe it was like Stewart had said to her – she had to think about what C.C. wanted. And clearly, this man was what she wanted.

"Thank you, Mrs Babcock," Niles said, shaking her hand.

"I hope you don't expect my blessing, though," the older socialite replied. "I will simply tolerate you until my daughter says otherwise."

"I didn't expect anything else from you, Endora," Niles teased, grinning once again.

Everyone in the room except B.B. chuckled, and soon their laughter died away and was replaced with concerned looks. B.B. hadn't said a word, but her expression had turned into one that no one could actually read – she was either furious or amused, it was hard to tell... maybe it was both.

The older woman eventually pulled her hand away from Niles' and crossed her arms across her front. "Careful, Daryl. Your Samantha has learned all her wicked tricks from me, and I assure you that I still have a few of them under my sleeve," the older socialite shot back.

And suddenly the room was alight with laughter again – but whether that was from genuine amusement or from relief, no one could tell. No one really cared, either; the tension had been diffused thoroughly enough, and they could all see about leaving the hospital and getting C.C. back to her penthouse. Seeing as nearly everyone would be going in a different direction once they made it through the front doors, Maxwell had arranged for a series of taxis to take everyone to where they wanted to go – far away from the press, to the comforts and safety of home.

C.C. couldn't wait. Dr Wilson had brought all the release forms, and before they left the room, Niles remembered to pick up the suitcase containing everything she had brought to the hospital that the butler hadn't taken away to be washed or stored for safekeeping.

Dr Wilson was waiting for the party in the reception area, before the doors to outside. Beyond him, and beyond the glass, C.C. could see the press gathered, cameras at the ready. She reached behind her, and clutched at Niles' hand. He gripped it back, letting her know he was there, and gave her an encouraging smile. He could see the cabs waiting for them, and was devising a strategy to get to one as soon as possible as Dr Wilson spoke up.

"Don't come back again too soon," he grinned. "You be right on time; if you're early because you did something dumb like falling out of bed, you'll never hear the end of it from me."

C.C. raised an eyebrow at him, "Is falling out of bed seriously the worst thing you could come up with?"

Wilson leaned in close, smirking, and muttered to her, "It'll be worse if I have to imply how it happened. Trust me."

"With my life," C.C. replied sardonically, and the doctor patted her shoulder as he straightened up to shake Niles' hand.

"She's all yours, Mr Brightmore," he said. "You take good care of her, now."

Niles looked back at C.C.'s parents before answering, "I intend to."

"I thought you might say that," Wilson smiled, nodded, and patted him on the shoulder before turning away to say goodbye to the other gathered members of the party. "Keep on being a hero, Niles."

Niles chuckled, and carefully rolled C.C. more towards the doors, and they silently waited for the others to join them. They were to all go out together, but it had been agreed that Niles and C.C. would need to be the first to leave, so that the producer could get home quicker to rest, and as such the others had to either distract the press or deflect their questions for as long as possible to allow them time.

Soon, everyone was at the door and ready. They all nodded at each other, confirming that they were prepared for whatever happened next. Taking a step forward, the hospital doors slid open and the camera flashes began to go off.

The press didn't even wait for them to get into complete earshot before firing the questions at them.

 _"How are you feeling, Miss Babcock?"_

 _"Mr Sheffield, what effect will Miss Babcock's diagnosis have on your company?"_

 _"Mr Brightmore, we can't help but notice you've spent a lot of time at this hospital recently. What exactly is your connection to Miss Babcock?"._

"Jeez, they don't let up, do they?" Fran muttered as the party hurried to the cabs.

Most of the short journey was a blur for C.C. – everyone else was behind her, trying to pass off questions without answering. But one in particular got through.

 _"Mrs Babcock, your daughter has often been described as not only one of the most powerful and influential women in New York, but also one of the most beautiful. How do you feel, seeing this dreadful disease reduce her to a mere shell of her former self?"_

That felt like a slap in the face...

Actually, it was more like a punch.

Rationally, she knew her appearance was the one of a sick person, but C.C. hadn't thought she looked that bad! Granted, not having hair and being basically skin and bones wasn't exactly what people considered attractive, but hearing someone say she was ugly, especially a reporter whose words would be heard by thousands of people, was too much for her.

Niles noticed the look on her face, and he quickened the pace, getting her to the nearest cab in mere seconds. But it wasn't quick enough – C.C.'s frail emotional state couldn't bear the blow and, much to her chagrin, she felt a familiar heat behind her eyes as both Niles and her father helped her into the cab.

"Don't let them get to you, Kitten, they are vultures," Stewart murmured to C.C., noticing her distress, "They just want a good sto-"

"What the hell did you just say about my daughter?" B.B.'s furious voice drifted to them, interrupting Stewart in mid-sentence.

C.C. could count with the fingers of one hand the times she had heard B.B. rise her voice, and if the furious shriek she had just given wasn't enough to hint her fury, the look on her face was another terrifying evidence of it. The blonde woman was standing mere inches away from the now pale reporter, and the producer could swear that she had never seen her mother look so angry in her life.

"I was merely asking if-" the reporter started, only to be slapped in the face by the enraged mother. The blow was so strong that the reporter fell to the floor, and no one dared to attempt and help her up – as a matter of fact, the rest of the paparazzi took a step back and simply pointed their cameras to B.B. (which was kind of a relief for C.C. because it meant that they weren't taking pictures of her anymore).

"I know what you asked," B.B. spat, her voice having recovered her normal level but sounding incredibly menacing all the same. "And I know what you meant. Tell me something, Michelle, are you still resentful of what happened between you and my daughter all those many years ago? That's why you even dared to ask what you did?"

And it suddenly hit C.C.. That reporter was no other than Michelle Prince, an ex-classmate of hers at Bryn Mawr. She almost didn't believe it! Of course she had asked such a vicious question, this was the perfect occasion for Michelle to get revenge on her! But how could someone hold a grudge for so long? And how could someone even dare to behave in such a way towards a cancer patient?

It had all started when they both were freshmen in college; as their families were close, they had agreed to be roommates, and that had been the beginning of the animosity between them. Both girls had had a quality that the other envied – Michelle had been extremely popular and outgoing, while C.C. had been the most brilliant student of the class, something that Michelle resented. It had been clear since day one that C.C. was the true star; she was brilliant, determined, had a talent for business and managed to pass her classes with top grades. Michelle had always struggled, and her family had always praised her roommate for her brains and seemingly bright future.

Their rivalry between them had reached a zenith during their sophomore year. C.C. had been dating a boy called Michael Lowell for around two years then, and the producer had suspected that he was finally going to ask her to marry him by the end of the term. They guy was the perfect catch – he was handsome, intelligent, had a degree in law and was part of one of the richest and oldest families of the United States. You can imagine C.C.'s reaction when she walked into her room and found Michelle and Michael together.

C.C., not being one who accepts being humiliated without consequences, begun to wait for the proper opportunity to get back at Michelle, and she had gotten it only a few weeks later. She remembered she had been walking to the library when she walked past the class where Michelle was giving an exam, and the blonde noticed she was discretely rising her skirt and copying the answers to one of the questions from the cheat sheet she had pasted to her leg with some tape.

She had had to admit the plan was clever, no teacher would ever lift a student's skirt to see if they hid any cheat sheets, but she was not about to allow her carry out her clever stunt. So, she had walked into the class and had ratted her out to the professor. Needless to say, Michelle had been busted and then kicked out of college for copying.

Looking back C.C. now realised that what she had done was a little bit extreme, but it wasn't like she had ruined Michelle's life! She was eventually accepted into Stanford and had graduated with honours. It was baffling that Michelle could be so resentful to stoop so low as to insult her when she was suffering from a deadly illness. She remembered telling her mother about what had happened with her former roommate years ago, but she would have never thought that B.B. would have remembered!

"Now, you listen to me, and you listen well," the older socialite hissed, glaring at the fallen reporter. "You are nothing but a sad, little brat who can't get over something that happened over fifteen years ago. My daughter may be sick, but she has more beauty and talent in her pinkie finger than you in your whole body," B.B. knelt by Michelle's side, grasped her by the collar of her shirt and pulled her close, so that she could look into her eyes. "You are pathetic, you are nothing, and you'll always remain the failure we all knew you were since you were a kid."

And with that B.B. let the woman go, rose back to her feet and flounced to the cab in which Niles, C.C. and Stewart awaited, the three of them staring at the older socialite with their mouths hanging wide open.

B.B. practically flung herself into the cab, slamming the door in the faces of the shocked and bemused reporters she left in her wake, some of them even too shocked to try and take one last photo of the retreating group. With an imperious command, the elder socialite ordered the cab driver to pull away, and implied that there might be a hefty tip in store for as soon as he could take them away.

That seemed to be enough for the driver, as the taxi sped away without a second's hesitation. Looking out the back, Niles could see the cab carrying the Sheffields turning, less concerned-appearing, away from the reporters who had at last appeared to have recovered from the ordeal that was B.B..

No one spoke for seemingly the longest time, even though it was probably only a few minutes in reality. They just stared amongst each other – most of all at the elder socialite. Even she seemed surprised by what she'd done, now that the anger and the adrenaline rush had worn off a little.

C.C. had never seen her mother fight anyone so viciously before – not for her, or any other person. The last time that even came close was when Katherine Windmiller made a snide remark about the piano player at an event that B.B. had organised and hosted, suggesting at first that the Babcock matriarch didn't possess the money to hire a decent player, and then when this was challenged, that perhaps she didn't possess the taste to hire a decent player. But that had been several years ago now, and wasn't really about defending anyone other than herself.

This was new. This was different. And C.C. liked it, very much.

She tentatively reached out to her mother's hand, taking it in her own and bringing the older woman out of her thoughts in the process.

C.C. smiled, and murmured, "Thank you, Mother."

B.B. smiled at her daughter and gave her hand a tight squeeze. Never in her life would she have thought she'd behave in such a way in front of the press, but she didn't feel bad about it, either. She had never been a protective mother, but for some reason someone attacking her child when she was ill had made her see red, hence her reacting the way she did.

"You are welcome, darling," B.B. said, looking out of the window again. "She deserved it."

"Indeed," Niles cut in.

"Barbara, we were together for over twenty five years, but I swear to God I'd never seen you so angry before! Not even when we separated!" Stewart, who was sat on the front seat added, turning around so he could look at his ex-wife.

"That's because you were never as irritating, Stewart."

"Or perhaps because you secretly liked when I irritated you?" Stewart retorted, winking at B.B..

The older socialite merely smirked, but said nothing. Both Niles and C.C. quickly sensed this was one of those conversations that only the members of the couple understood.

The silence stretched until the cab arrived to C.C.'s penthouse, and it was only broken when they said their goodbyes after Stewart and Niles had gotten C.C. and her luggage out of the car. The hospital had allowed them to take the wheelchair home so – after both Niles and Stewart's insistence – C.C. begrudgingly sat on it and allowed Niles to wheel her into her building.

It was strange to be back, really, she had last been there eight months ago, so she was rather excited to see her old apartment again.

"Ready to go back to your lair, Countess Babcockula?" Niles asked as he took the keys of her apartment from his pocket.

"As long as there are no garlic or crucifixes, then I think I am."

The couple shared a smile and Niles finally opened the door. Everything looked the same, but for the first time in years, C.C. didn't feel alone there; back when she was healthy, she usually avoided spending her time inside her home, for it felt empty, devoid of life, impersonal...

Instead, she had chosen to spend her time at the mansion – more specifically at the mansion's kitchen.

Now she knew why.

C.C. tentatively got to her feet and walked into her penthouse; part of her wanted to go and lie down, but she forced herself to grab her suitcase and took it to her bedroom. She had to unpack first, she told herself – she should be able to do so without getting worn out, right?

"Don't worry, Babcock, I'll unpack for you later," he said as he followed her into her room. "You should rest now, don't you think?"

C.C. pursed her lips. She knew she needed to rest, she was feeling tired already, but she if she did so she would feel even more useless than she already did! She simply shook her head, laid her suitcase on the bed and opened it.

"I am okay, Niles. I'll unpack, don't worry," the producer said as she took some of her clothes to her closet.

"Are you sure?" the butler walked up behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders, as she slipped some of her clothing onto hangers and put them away. He rubbed the spot between her shoulder blades with his thumb, frowning. "You did just get home; are you sure you're not too tired to be doing this kind of thing? Especially seeing as-"

"Niles," C.C. hung up one last shirt, turned around so that he now held her in his arms, and placed her hands on his chest. "I feel fine. You don't have to worry. After having everyone fussing and doing everything for me for eight months, I kind of need to be up doing things for myself, okay?"

Niles bit the inside of his lip. He didn't want her getting exhausted by unpacking, and after everything that had just happened, she really needed the rest. She might say she was fine, but that didn't truly mean she was. She was still ill, after all, and she might have been out of the hospital for the moment, but that wasn't exactly being given a clean bill of health.

He considered telling her this, but they'd only been in the penthouse for a few minutes and he was hoping to give the neighbours at least a little while longer before the yelling began, and he was hoping to stay in C.C.'s good graces for at least one day outside the hospital. He then contemplated offering to help her unpack, but decided that she would see through that one – lightening the load for her would be far too close to helping too much.

He eyed the suitcase. Maybe it would be a good test, to see how well she was. And she would eventually have to start getting up and moving about again – Dr Wilson didn't say she couldn't, anyway. And she could rest afterwards; the suitcase wasn't that full, really. It would only take her half an hour, at most. As long as he stayed to make sure she was fine during the unpacking, nothing would go wrong.

He'd make sure of it.

He sighed in an overdramatic fashion, and gave her a soft smile before pulling her in for a close embrace and kissing her cheek, "Alright. You win. But I must insist that you take a break to relax afterwards."

C.C. smiled and wrapped her arms around his waist, relishing on the closeness of their bodies without actually having to worry about disturbing her IV or any other cable that had connected her to the hospital equipment. It was just them, and it was a new but very nice feeling.

"Tell you what," she began and placed a kiss on his lips. "I'll unpack, take a quick shower and we can then watch a movie together. Does that sound okay to you?"

That did sound like a plan, Niles thought. He doubted unpacking and a shower would be too much of a strain to her, and watching a movie together was a nice way to spend the afternoon.

"We have a deal, Babcock."

After sharing one last kiss, C.C. went back to her bed while Niles relaxed on the chaise lounge in front of the glass door that gave to the balcony – it had an amazing view of Manhattan, and Niles relished in the feeling of the warm sun kissing his skin as it streamed into the room.

Just as expected, unpacking didn't represent an arduous task for C.C., and she smiled in triumph when she placed the last shirt inside her closet. Niles had dozed off on the chaise-lounge as she had taken care of her luggage, and he looked so blissful in his sleep that she chose not to wake him yet. He always made a fuss about her needing to rest, but truth was that he had barely rested since he had started taking care of her at the hospital; she figured letting him a few more minutes of sleep would do him a world of good. She'd simply take her shower and awake him afterwards.

Once she was safely inside the bathroom, C.C. silently closed the door and began taking her clothes off. She couldn't help but to observe at her figure on the full body mirror in front of her – it was horrible… she still looked so incredibly unwell! Apart from the painful fact she was dreadfully pale and had no hair, C.C. could also see the outline of her ribcage quite clearly; both her hip and collarbones jutted out, and her legs and arms were so frail that she feared they'd break. The words of the reporter suddenly drifted back to her, and a new, unwanted wave of tears pricked at the corner of her eyes.

She had never been extremely fond of her physical appearance, but this was a new low – she had never felt so ugly before. The picture in the mirror vaguely reminded her of the one of a malnourished person from a third world country...

But the worst part was that she started to wonder how Niles could find her attractive when she looked like this. She was not pretty, by any means, so what were they going to do when they wanted to have intimacy? She was not stupid, at the rate their relationship was developing sex was going to happen sooner rather than later, and she simply knew he was not going to like what he was going to see...

The producer stalked to the bathtub and turned on the water, not bearing to look at her figure for one more second. But she couldn't escape her thoughts... she'd wanted her first time with him to be special, and she doubted that that would happen given her current appearance.

It was just not fair...

She lowered herself into the bath, not caring about the water being hot enough to scald her skin. She needed the pain, maybe the burning water would help her to ignore the burning feelings of sorrow, anger and shame that she was currently experiencing. The tears were now falling freely, and the combination of the vapour of the steaming bath, being in a closed room and her crying started making her feel alarmingly lightheaded.

Through the fog that now enveloped her mind, C.C. remembered Nurse Cameron telling her that, in case she felt dizzy, she should get out of the bath at once. It was dangerous to remain in there when she was at risk of fainting.

But given that her bathroom was not equipped with support rails like the one at the hospital, the blonde found that climbing out of the bath was a rather difficult task. She had only managed to put one leg out of the bath before her knees gave out and she fell face down to the floor, making a loud thumping noise when her body impacted against the floor tiles.

"C.C.? What happened in there?" Niles' worried voice came from outside the door as he hurried to the bathroom – the noise must have awoken him.

C.C. started to panic. She didn't have much strength to move or even stand up, and although her mind was still slightly foggy, there was a small conscious part of it that didn't want him to see her naked... she wouldn't be able to bear the disgust in his eyes.

"Don't come in!" she called out, failing entirely to hide the dread and sadness in her tone. She scrambled as much as she could to retrieve a towel from the rack next to her, and her fingers managed to brush it just enough to pull it down. Her hands fumbled with it, and just about covered herself – or at least most of her – by the time Niles had opened the door.

He rushed to her side, eyes wide with alarm as he knelt by her, "What happened?! Did you fall?!"

"Yeah..." C.C. coughed weakly. There was no point in lying about that – he'd heard the noise and found her on the floor, after all. "The water...it was too hot, I tried to get out and I got dizzy."

"Alright," he said, checking her over for injuries. "But why did you yell at me not to come in? I could have helped you get out."

"I didn't..." C.C. trailed off, still feeling a little faint and having no real clue of what to say. She resorted to shaking her head minutely.

The butler pursed his lips, "Didn't what? Need my help? I think the answer to that statement is obvious, wouldn't you say?"

He looked down at the towel that covered most of her body, and he indicated to it with his head.

"You don't look injured from what I'm seeing, but I'm going to need to check under the towel, too. If the bath scalded you, we're going to need to take a look sooner, rather than later."

He reached out slowly – gently, in his mind – to peel away the towel, but pulled his hand back, confused, when C.C. flinched away from him.

Niles furrowed his brow, "What's the matter?"

"I can't let you see," the producer blurted out.

This took the butler aback. What did she mean? Did she not want him to check if she was hurt? How would she put up with it if she was? She'd only just come out of hospital, surely the last thing she wanted to do was go straight back in because she refused to take care of an injury!

Her stubbornness was the smashed pane of glass all over again...

"Are we really going to do this again?" he asked, frustrated. "All I want to do is take a look to make sure you're not hurt! C.C., surely you can see that I just want you to be alright!"

"I know..." she muttered.

"Then why won't you let me see?"

How on Earth was she going to explain this to Niles? She couldn't even bare his gaze and now she had to tell him why she didn't want him to see her naked figure? It was impossible... At least in her mind it was. C.C. knew she was probably overreacting, but she couldn't help but feel uncomfortable… she had never looked this bad before, and although she knew Niles would still love her no matter how ugly she looked, she didn't want him to see her like this. Knowing him, he'd be saddened, for it was a jarring reminder of how ill she still was and of what her cancer had done to her.

She tried to come up with something, a good excuse that would suffice to make him desist on his attempt to look at her body, but nothing came up – or rather, nothing good occurred to her. She couldn't say she had checked herself, he was not going to buy it, nor she could allege that she didn't feel comfortable showing him her body, for that was too close to the truth.

So what could she do?

"I... I just don't want you to see..." she said in a weak voice, hugging her towel.

Niles sighed again, and sat down in front of her, not willing to let it go. By now he had realised her motives were emotional, but he couldn't grasp what had caused her to react this way! Things between them were going wonderfully, so why didn't she answer his questions? And why on Earth did she refuse to let him see if she was injured?

"Babcock... C.C., please, what's wrong?" Niles used his hand to tip her chin upwards, forcing her to look into his eyes.

C.C.'s lower lip trembled, but she eventually allowed him to pull her into his embrace, although she still held her towel to her body. Being hidden in his arms made her feel at home, as though nothing bad could happen to her...

"What's wrong, love?"

"I... I don't want you to see because..." she gulped the lump that had formed in her throat, "Because I don't look... because I feel… well… that I am not attractive, just like that reporter said... and I don't want you to... what if you..." she trailed off, the stress of the moment finally getting to her.

He held her tightly while she cried. She'd taken the words of that reporter far more to heart than he'd imagined at first, and had come to believe them.

She thought herself unattractive – she thought herself unworthy of attention! She thought...

She had said "What if you...".

She thought he'd find her unattractive.

He held her as close as he possibly could, not caring that her skin was wet as he rested his head on her shoulder.

The last thing he'd ever consider her to be was unattractive – he knew he'd made plenty of jokes about that over the years that they'd known each other, but it simply wasn't true. Part of him wished he hadn't, however – he couldn't help but feel that maybe some of what he had done before had played a part in damaging her self-esteem, even if the latest round of blame could be shifted onto this reporter.

But he was going to do everything in his power to remedy what had already been done. He knew she'd changed physically because of her illness, but that didn't matter to him in the slightest. She was the most gorgeous woman on Earth, as far as he was concerned. No illness would ever change that.

What mattered was telling her, and showing her, just how beautiful she was, and always would be, to him.

"Does it look like I'm going anywhere?" he muttered, lightly rubbing her back with one hand before pulling away to look at her properly, cupping her cheek to wipe away a tear that he'd happened to catch falling. "You have nothing to fear, C.C.. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life, and that will always be the case – illness or no illness. Don't let what the reporter said get to you; she isn't worth it. But you are, and I count myself lucky that we both finally came to our senses, because not being with you for so long is quite frankly the worst mistake I've ever made. Now, I intend to make up for that mistake every day for the rest of my life. And part of that involves reminding you, daily, how utterly breath-taking you are, and that if the situation were reversed and I were the one in the towel, we'd have more of a problem because there's no way I could compare and then you'd be the one running for the hills."

Much to Niles' relief, C.C. laughed at his joke. This was good, because although she was still crying, he had managed to make her feel a little bit better. He leaned down and kissed her – his kiss was gentle, loving… like a soft breeze on a tranquil summer morning. She allowed the kiss to deepen, tentatively moving her hands from the towel – which consequently slid down her body, exposing her upper half – to clasp his face.

Right then the world could have been falling apart, but neither of them would have cared. Only their lips brushing together existed. She couldn't do anything but bask in the feeling of one of his hands running up and down her spine while the other rested on her right hip. It was glorious, simply and utterly glorious – there was no logical explanation, but his kiss was more comforting than words could possibly explain, and there was a part of her that wished to remain there, nestled in his embrace, for the rest of her life.

Eventually the need for oxygen made it imperative for them to pull away, but they knew it was not over – as a matter of fact, the kiss was a gentle promise of what was yet to come. They smiled and remained still for a moment, but eventually C.C. shifted in his embrace, locked her own arms around his neck and rested their foreheads together. She took a moment to listen to their hitched breathings before giving him a quick peck on the lips.

"I love you; do you know that?" she whispered, a few happy tears going down her cheeks.

Back when she had pinned after Maxwell, C.C. had craved for the warm feeling of belonging that being in the arms of a loved one entailed, but she had never thought it would be this good. Everything with Niles – from simple caresses to heated kisses – was new and exciting, and she was quickly discovering that she wanted to feel like this for the rest of her life. No man could ever compare to him; not only had he showed her that their intimacy was at an absolutely new level, but he had also renounced to almost everything to take care of her, and he hadn't expected a thing in return.

He had been there, through thick and thin, purely out of love – he wanted her to get better, and Niles was willing to do anything for her to recover her health. He had held her hand through the pain, he had spent hours at the hospital keeping her company, had cooked the food he knew she liked when she craved it, he had donated bone marrow to save her...

This man, this wonderful man, had proven himself trustworthy.

But most of all, he had proved his love for her.

So how could she not believe him when he said she was beautiful to him? Yes, she was sick and her appearance denoted so, but that wasn't important to him because _he loved her_. And it was that love what made her beautiful to him. Maybe years ago this wouldn't have sufficed for her, but right now she only cared about what he thought of her. Who cared if she was skinny and had no hair? Who cared if she was not attractive by social standards? He loved her and to him she was the most beautiful woman in the world, and that was enough.

"I know you do," Niles said, pulling her closer. "That's why I need you to trust me and let me see," he had felt the towel slip, but he hadn't looked at her without her permission.

There were a few seconds of silence, but eventually C.C. sighed and nodded. "Alright. Let's go back to the room and you'll take a look, okay?"

"Sounds good to me. Do you want to cover yourself until we get there?" he asked.

"I'd prefer so, yes," she reached down for her towel and swiftly (and with a bit of help from his part) wrapped it around her body. Niles then got them both to their feet and slipped an arm around her waist, so as to support her in case she felt dizzy again.

They made their way back slowly, neither of them wanting to rush after what had happened in the bathroom. Eventually, they got to her bed – or rather, Niles thought with no small amount of excitement, their bed – and he perched on the left side of it, while C.C. remained standing. She positioned herself in between his legs, took a deep breath and looked down at him.

The moment had come.

"May I look, Babcock?" he asked again, his hands traveling to her hips and resting there.

The producer nodded and allowed her arms to fall to her sides. Niles' hold on her hips kept the towel in place, but it was a matter of seconds until he let them go and she was finally exposed to him. He hadn't noticed it before, but he was growing increasingly nervous... back when he had been silently in love with her and the idea of being a couple was an impossibility roaming the realm of his daydreams, he had hoped (if he ever got one) the first time he'd see her naked to be special. Most people wouldn't consider checking for any injuries a special occasion, but to him it was. He had to make her feel wanted, loved, beautiful... he had to make her see herself through his eyes.

"I am ready," she encouraged him, threading her fingers through his hair.

That was all he needed, really. Her saying, out loud and explicitly, that he had her permission. Niles took a deep breath and let the towel go, which immediately fell down and pooled at her feet. He had to suppress a gasp the moment his eyes drank in the beauty of her naked body.

She was gorgeous.

Nothing could compare in his eyes to the sight before him. Her skin, which she would have said made her look like a cadaver already, to him was the finest porcelain, and he longed to reach out and touch it – to feel each and every single inch of her beneath his fingertips shivering at his touch, so that he knew she was getting just as much pleasure from it as he would be. He almost resented the towel that had been between his hands and her hips, because it had denied him this opportunity. But he knew he'd resent himself far more for not asking her permission first.

She'd only given him permission to look, anyway; she was most likely tired from being in the hospital, and he didn't want to exhaust her, or make her worse by doing anything that she wasn't ready for. So looking had to suffice.

And suffice it did. His eyes wandered almost lazily over her, drinking in everything, and his mind imagining what their skin would feel like when pressed together, hands roaming, breathing growing faster, heartbeats pounding in time...

His imagination became so vivid, he almost forgot that he was supposed to be checking that she wasn't scalded by her bath or bruised from her fall. Luckily, she didn't seem to be – he had been dragging his eyes over her so carefully he would have noticed if there was something out of the ordinary. It would have shown up, like a smudge in an otherwise perfect drawing.

C.C. watched him as he inspected her, and she suppressed a beaming smile. He wasn't looking at her in disgust at all – on the contrary, he seemed entranced, like a man who had been blind all his life suddenly being given sight. She'd never seen the kind of awe and wonder he was displaying on anyone before, and it made her feel more than a little bit like she'd been overreacting when she'd tried to stop him from looking at her like this. He'd never look at her with disgust – not now, not ever. And as long as that was the case, she had nothing to fear from what she knew would happen next.

"Seen anything you like?" she allowed the smile she'd been holding back to turn into a smirk.

Her voice snapped him out of his trancelike state, and his gaze travelled back to her eyes. Judging by her satisfied smile she knew that he'd liked what he had seen, and it was a relief; he wanted her to understand just how perfect she was to him.

He also knew the opportunity was perfect for a zinger, but given what had happened a few minutes ago the last thing he wanted to do was to jest about her appearance.

"I've seen many things I like," Niles said gently turning her around so he could take a look at her back. He thought he was on the verge of fainting when he got a view of her rear – it was, by far, the most gorgeous he had ever seen.

"I could tell," C.C. turned around and sat on his lap as her hands made their way to his chest. He had gotten rid of his jacket and tie when they had gotten to the penthouse, so only a few buttons separated her from his warm skin. "And speaking of that, I think it's time for me to see if I'd really run for the hills."

Not exactly knowing where the boldness came from, C.C. leaned forward and brushed her lips against his while her hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt.

For a moment Niles was unable to react – what was going on? Were they really venturing into that new territory? She looked more than up for it, and the eagerness with which she was attacking his clothes was evidence of this. He wanted to protest, though… she had just gotten out of the hospital! And had fallen down! It might not be the wisest of ideas to do this...

But it was just so hard to pull away...

He felt himself starting to respond to her onslaught – he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him as she undid his shirt. Kisses were exchanged freely, and soon she grew bold in her exploration and left love bites on his neck. He responded in kind, eliciting soft moans from her whenever his lips made contact with her long, smooth neck.

Neither of them really knew how they got there, but C.C. soon found herself lying on the bed with Niles hovering over her as she unbuckled his belt and undid his pants.

When she got rid of both, her eyes greedily traced his body, as though trying to burn this memory on his mind; she was more than ready for this, and so was he, but she could sense there was a part of him that wasn't quite convinced.

Her suspicions were proven correct when he pulled away, his face denoting concern. He helped her sit back up and she scooted closer to him, settling herself in between his spread legs once again. Niles wrapped his arms around her waist, and they didn't speak for some seconds, so as to allow their worked breaths to return to normal.

"C.C... I am not sure we should be doing this after you've just gotten out of the hospital," the butler said, heaving a sigh. "I don't want you to get worn out or exhausted when your doctor prescribed you to rest."

C.C. smiled at him. How had she gotten so lucky? It was obvious he wanted to have her as much as she wanted to have him, but this wonderful, selfless man put her health first. Yes, she was still tired and probably wouldn't be able to perform in bed as she usually did, but she wanted this... she needed this...

 _She needed him_.

C.C. gently cupped his cheek and dropped a kiss on it. "I'm fine, lover. If you bear with me and take it slow and gentle, I'm sure I'll be okay."

Niles turned his face inward towards her palm and kissed it. She knew her limits, as well as he did. And she wanted him, too...just as much as he wanted her, if the darkness in her eyes and the way that she been pulling away his clothes as though they were an annoyance were anything to go by. He didn't want to deny her this, not if she thought it would be alright, and not when so much of him was screaming that now was the time. Now was perfect and completely right.

 _She_ was perfect, and completely right.

There was no need for hesitation. As long as they were careful, everything would be fine. Besides, he had wanted it to be special. Making it as slow and sensuous as possible, drawing out every possible pleasure; that would definitely make it special.

She deserved the best, after all.

He nodded into her hand and whispered, "Alright, then."

He slowly advanced towards her, and lowered her back onto the mattress, taking his place over her again and leaning down to draw her in for a long, passionate kiss as their hands resumed their exploration of one another's bodies. C.C.'s hands slipped down, and she helped him to remove his boxers, which he tossed aside eagerly, before becoming lost in the pleasures and delights that they were drawing out from each other.

* * *

C.C. stretched comfortably, a small moan escaping her lips as she nestled in closer to Niles, who could only grin at her in return. She couldn't help but chuckle breathlessly at the expression on his face as he gazed at her, one arm around her as she cuddled against his side, her own arm sprawled over his chest.

"Alright, hot-shot; I get it," she pretended to be unamused, but her attempt at appearing so was so awful, she didn't know why she bothered. "And I do admit, I'm a little tired now. But it was worth it, don't you think?"

Yes, Niles thought, it had been more than worth it – actually it had been the best experience of his entire life. He had believed that holding her and kissing her was like touching the sky, but after having experienced such an intimate moment with her, he now knew how touching the sky actually felt like.

There was a part of him floating somewhere near the edge of the universe, and he suspected the warm presence nestled against his side was what kept him from floating away. He gently brushed his hand up and down her spine, relishing in the soft moans that came from his tired girlfriend.

It was still strange to use that word... _girlfriend_... he somehow felt like it wasn't enough to describe what C.C. was for him. She was his everything, his reason of being…

She was his world.

Now he was more determined than ever not to let her go. She was going to get over this, and once this nightmare was done, they would see where life took them. What he did know for certain, was that this was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

"I think that is something of an understatement, Babcock," he rasped, pulling her impossibly closer to him. "That was the most amazing experience I have ever had."

"Ditto," she stretched again, the need to sleep enveloping her like tendrils. He had been perfect – just as she had asked, the pace had been slow and patient, he had (as he did in other aspects of his life) put her pleasure before his, and she had felt totally and completely loved. "And considering I'm sick I can't even imagine how it will be like once I start getting better."

That was another thing both of them knew; although the pace had been slow, their lovemaking had been incredibly passionate and intense. The thought of repeating this when she had a little more energy was absolutely thrilling, to say the least. Well, now that they knew how wonderful it was they suspected they'd see a repeat of this sooner than either of them would know.

She yawned again, drawing Niles out of his musings. She was exhausted, he could tell so, but he couldn't allow her to go to bed without a proper meal! Wilson was very insistent with her not missing meals – especially after having engaged in an activity that demanded physical effort.

"My, aren't we tired?" he teased before dropping a kiss on her forehead.

"I am about to fall asleep, I swear," the producer replied, allowing her eyes to close. "We could skip dinner and go to sleep, don't you think?

He considered for a moment. He wasn't as tired as she was, and going without food could leave her feeling unwell in the morning, which was the last thing he wanted. Besides, it was still fairly early, and the bath was still full of water from earlier, and it would be easier just to get everything done right then.

It seemed a compromise was in order. He could make them both something to eat, and she could sleep until it was ready. Bringing it to her on a tray would mean she could rest while she ate, too.

Considering their positions right now, it probably wouldn't take that much effort to get her to agree, either. She'd probably go off almost as soon as he got out of bed – and it would take time for him to empty the bath and put his clothes on (he wasn't in the habit of cooking in the nude). And he'd take his time so she could have a proper rest, wake her up to eat, and then let her sleep again. It wouldn't be like she was missing a meal, it would be like anyone else taking a nap before dinner.

It would be for the best, he knew that much.

"I'm not too tired," he traced his finger against her skin, relishing the thought of how he could do this every day from now on, whenever they both felt like it.

His voice must have given off the wrong impression, because C.C. snorted, "If you're looking for a repeat performance, you've got another thing coming, Hazel."

"I was actually going to suggest that you take a nap while I made dinner," he finished his previously held thought, biting back a smirk at the thought of her thinking he had that much energy in him. "I could bring it to you on a tray, if you want, so you can get back to sleep as soon as you're done."

"Oh..." C.C. shifted a bit so she could look at him in the eye. She couldn't help but to smile when he saw the look of unadulterated love in his eyes. "Well, that does sound like a good plan."

"Fantastic. I'll get moving then," the butler said, carefully getting up of bed, taking care not to disturb her. He tucked her in before he grabbed both his boxers and shirt from the floor and went to the bathroom, where he drained the bathtub and hung up the towel.

By the time he headed to the kitchen he could hear her soft snores coming from the bed, and he promised himself to make her time at home be the best she had ever had.

* * *

 **AN: Merry belated Christmas everybody! We hope you had a wonderful time :) We leave you this chapter to enjoy, and as usual, we'd aprreciate your reviews.**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **H &L**


	13. Chapter 13

**_Chapter 13_**

 ** _The Invitation_**

Niles was happy. He didn't exactly know why, but he felt as though he was hidden inside a warm cocoon that smelled of Chanel No. 5. He didn't realise he was half-asleep until his slow-waking mind eventually registered two things:

One; that there was a warm, frail presence snuggled against his side. He immediately knew who that was, and he couldn't help but smile at the thought of now being able to wake up by her side. Back when she was still at the hospital he had held her as she slept numerous times, but it couldn't compare to actually having slept in the same bed with her. He could feel her soft breathing tickling his neck, and one of her hands was wrapped around his torso, holding him to her.

And two; there was an annoying, shrilling sound coming from nearby. It took a moment for him to realise that it was the bell. Not wanting it to interrupt the rest she clearly needed, he carefully climbed out of bed, put on his robe and stalked to the door.

Who on Earth was inconsiderate enough to come by at 7:30 in the morning?!

However, when he got to the door and managed to see who was behind it, he wasn't surprised at all. There, clad in his usual white robe, was Dr Wilson. Niles supposed the oncologist had stopped by before going to work, and he couldn't help but to wonder what was it that he had under his sleeve this time.

"You are unbelievable," Niles grumbled as he opened the door. "And pray tell what brought you here at this time?"

The oncologist delved into his pocket and retrieved a little bottle of pills – C.C.'s painkillers. He had noticed that she had forgotten them only after the party had left the hospital, which had been something akin to a gift from heaven, really, for it had given him the perfect excuse to go and poke around.

You know, just check how his patient and her new partner were doing.

"You forgot this, buddy," the doctor smirked. "But I doubt you would have noticed! Judging by your appearance and the utterly pleased look on your face, I'll make a safe bet that you two found a more than entertaining way to spend your time, correct?"

Niles' smile disappeared, "Do you make all your house calls like this?"

"Only when I think I can get a kick out of it," the doctor replied, eyeing the inside of the penthouse. "Might I be allowed to come in, or am I interrupting something a little more satisfying than breakfast?"

He punctuated the last part of his question by wiggling his eyebrows.

"Niles, is someone at the door?" C.C.'s voice called sleepily, and soon the producer shuffled into view, clad in her own robe and stifling a yawn.

Niles groaned internally. He had actually been planning to sleep for a while longer, and then get up to make anything (probably surprising C.C. with some pancakes or something like that), but considering the doctor was here now and C.C. was awake, they might as well start the day.

Dr Wilson's face broke into a beam that both producer and butler knew was more than a little mocking, "Ah, there's my favourite patient! Could you possibly do me a favour and get your _boyfriend_ – God, that money from my bet feels good in my wallet every time I say that – to be polite and invite me inside?"

C.C. folded her arms, smirking, "Forgive him, he's not fully housetrained yet."

Niles shot her an unamused look, and backed away from the door to allow Wilson to step inside, "Answering doors happens to be part of my profession, as you well know."

"And yet you're still terrible at it," the producer shot straight back, coming to wrap her arms around his middle.

Dr Wilson, who had been looking around the penthouse and whistling to himself in an impressed fashion, turned to look at the couple and grinned, "But there's clearly something he's not terrible at, otherwise neither of you would be fawning over each other like this."

"Alright, alright," C.C. waved a dismissive hand as the three of them moved into the living room. "We slept together, there is no need for you to be so smug about it."

" _YES_!" the doctor screamed and fist-pumped. "Cameron owes me another fifty dollars!"

Both butler and producer gave Wilson a deadpan look. Over the months their relationship had been the subject of numerous bets between Cameron and Wilson, so they weren't exactly surprised that they had betted on when they'd sleep together, too.

"So that's why you came by?" C.C. asked. "To check if you had won your bet?"

Wilson nodded, looking absolutely pleased with himself. "Partially – I did also need to give you back the painkillers you forgot at the hospital," the oncologist's smirk disappeared from his face as he took the pills from his pocket. "In all seriousness, Babcock, now that the chemo is over, these are only for when the pain is unbearable. Your body is slowly getting used to not receiving chemo, and although you might still suffer from some side effects, they will pass with time. Painkillers can cause addiction, so I am entrusting them to Niles – he will give them to you if he considers it necessary."

Wilson tossed the pills to the butler, who stored them inside his robe pocket, making a mental note to keep them somewhere a pained and desperate C.C. couldn't put her hands on.

"There is no need to make such a fuss, Wilson," C.C. cut in, more than a little upset that her own doctor didn't trust her with her own pills. "I am a strong girl, I can't take it."

"I know you can," her doctor replied. "But I do also know pain can make us act stupidly, don't you think? Or do I need to remind you about the four months you hid your condition from basically everyone?"

The butler chanced a glance at C.C., and when he found her looking the same way he was, he felt it was safe to make his thought known, "Better to be safe than sorry, don't you think, love?"

She bit down on the inside of her lip. They probably did both have a point. Who knew where it would take her, if she began using these drugs whenever she had so much as a momentary twinge of pain? That could lead to her using them just whenever she felt like it. And she knew more than a lot of people how easy it was for addiction to soon follow.

Niles would be a better judge, she completely agreed on that front. He wanted her to be safe, and they could agree on some kind of system, so that he knew how bad it was before deciding whether or not she needed them. It would stop her going down a far too familiar road.

He'd be saving her yet again. And she didn't resent it at all, like he probably feared she did. He had no reason to – she was letting him donate his bone marrow, after all, and most people would consider that the bigger deal – but the producer also knew it was in his nature to worry about things like this, and seeing as he was trying his hardest to make her feel comfortable, she could at least try and return the favour.

She nodded at him, "I know. Just make sure they're somewhere you can get to them if I tell you it's really bad, but don't make the place so obvious that I could get them myself."

Dr Wilson leaned back in his seat, clutching at his chest, eyes wide and pretending to be speechless. The couple looked between each other, and then at him as he spoke in a shocked tone.

"C.C. Babcock, agreeing to do something without argument, for the benefit of her health?!" he exclaimed. "I think there might be an impostor in our midst! There's usually a tell-tale scar or tattoo that gives the fake away – Niles, have you seen anything unusual on this woman?"

Wilson's words caused opposite – but equally amusing – reactions. Niles grinned, looking absolutely pleased with himself, while C.C.'s face showed something akin to mortification.

"Ah, speaking of tattoos – that's a very nice tattoo you have on the side of your hip, sweetheart," Niles wrapped an arm around his girlfriend's shoulders, enjoying the sight of her reddened cheeks.

"I told you, I was a stupid teenager when I got it!" C.C. said, trying to save face before her oncologist. The tattoo was nothing embarrassing, really, it was just a little heart on the side of her left hip, but what mortified her was that she had gotten it after a drunk night out with some college friends. She didn't really feel like telling Wilson about it, either, so she quickly disentangled herself from Niles and looked at a very amused Dr Wilson. "I don't want to hear any comments about this," she said while pointing a warning finger at him. "Now, do you have any other medically relevant thing to say?"

"Ah, yes. I've brought you a few indications that you should follow while you are out of the hospital," the oncologist delved into his pocket and retrieved a small piece of paper with a few indications written on it. "You should start exercising – having been in a bed for so long only weakened your muscles, so I want you to exercise them before you go back to the hospital. Your next stay will be a long one, too – probably around 2 or 3 months long – so I need you to gain muscle and weight. Don't push yourself, just make sure to go out for walks, try not to stay in bed more than necessary, and you must eat," Wilson gave her a look, making it clear that this was not open for a discussion. She was still lacking an appetite from the chemo, but she needed to eat whether she wanted it or not.

"I will make sure she does," Niles interjected, entwining his fingers with C.C.'s. He was more than willing to prepare her favourite meals and desserts if that was what it took for her to eat.

"That's what I was counting on," he looked at the list, and continued his speech. "You are absolutely prohibited from smoking or drinking and I'll give you some more meds for your neuropathy – I am sure it will go away with time, but it's not uncommon for it to linger for a while even after the chemo has ended. It won't be as bad, but it will be there. So follow my recommendations and take your meds, alright?" Wilson handed Niles a second bottle of pills, which were soon stored inside his pocket.

"Alright," C.C. nodded somewhat stiffly. Having to give up alcohol and cigarettes actually bothered her a lot less than she thought it would – she hadn't had access to either of those things since she'd been in the hospital anyway, and the feeling of needing either had considerably lessened over the course of being unwell for so long. Besides, even if she did want to throw herself off the wagon, she was almost completely certain that Niles would stop the entire train in the middle of the trail so that he could pick her up and make her get back on.

Not that she really minded. _He_ was better than the drink, anyway.

They'd probably have the same agreement about these new pills as they did the others, too, which wasn't really that much of a problem when she thought about it. Having the butler in her life was giving her the stability she had lacked for a long time. Her being in charge of her own medication would probably take that away from her again, and she didn't want that.

No, getting better meant moving forward. Past all those little life-ruining vices that she'd consoled herself with in the past. She didn't need them. She needed to get better.

She gripped the butler's hand tightly, and gave him a reassuring smile. If he was willing to help her, like he had done for all this time, she was willing to make the effort to actually see some positive results at the end of it.

"Excellent!" Wilson exclaimed, rising to his feet. He stopped the couple by rising a hand when he noticed they intended to get up, too. "Don't worry, I can see myself out. You two go back to whatever it was that you were doing before I dropped by," the oncologist gave the pair a smug smile before turning for the door.

Just before he left, however, he looked back at the couple and spoke again, "Come to think of it, I'm certain that you already have the exercising recommendation completely covered."

And with that, Wilson slammed the door shut and finally gave the lovers some privacy. They hadn't moved from the sofa, and they didn't really intend to, either. They were far too comfortable to do anything else but lay there.

C.C. looked up at Niles, barely able to stifle her laugh. "Can you believe the man's gall?" the producer said as the butler pulled her against him while leaning against the back of the sofa. "They betted on when we'd have sex! I am almost certain they have a few more bets running – like when we'll get married or if we are going to have children."

Niles arched an eyebrow. She hadn't realised it, but she had said " _when we'll get married_ " instead of " _if we'll get married_ " – could this mean that she already saw a future together? That she wanted a future with him as her husband? And that, perhaps, it was only a matter of time before it happened?

His heart skipped a beat when he imagined them as a married couple...

But it wasn't the time – not yet. She still had to get better, so any type of ideas he had about weddings or proposals had to be pushed to the back of his mind until she was completely recovered.

"Well, so far he's won all the bets he's made, so maybe we should ask him what else he betted on," the butler said, brushing his hand up and down her spine.

"Ah, and speaking of won bets," the producer purred as she swiftly broke free of his embrace and moved to straddle him. "The man just gained a few bucks due to what we did last night. Maybe we should listen to him now and go back to doing " _whatever it was that we were doing_ "."

Well, proposals and weddings and children might have been out of the question right then, but there were some things which certainly weren't. Ever since they had consummated their relationship, he had been longing to feel her touch and the pleasure that came with it again, and if she wanted it just as much as he did, then he wasn't going to wait.

With a sly smile, he slowly ran his hands along her thighs, leaning in so his breath tickled against her throat, "Hm...I suppose if it is doctor's orders..."

He pressed his lips against a patch of skin he seemed to remember was particularly sensitive, feeling almost smug when the hitch in C.C.'s breath told him he was correct, and he wrapped his arms around her to manoeuvre them better onto the sofa cushions.

After all, Wilson said she should be out of bed and exercising more. What better way to kill two birds with one stone?

* * *

A good few hours later, and C.C. was still lying in a blissful state on the sofa, stretched out happily with the television on and the remote control within reach should she get bored with whatever was on the screen. She felt perfectly content to not move an inch, not even if Niles came in from making them lunch in the kitchen. He'd have to sit somewhere else, or otherwise sit on top of her. The latter was preferable, really. She had never felt so completely satisfied before, and each time seemed to be just as good, if not even better, than the last. It made her more eager to get well again, so that they could try being a little more adventurous than just a bed and a sofa.

She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she almost didn't hear the phone, but Niles was already on it by the time she'd pulled herself into a sitting position.

"Hello?" Niles said as he handed C.C. a tray laden with her freshly made lunch – he had prepared mushroom risotto, her favourite. "Oh, hello, sir. Yes she is feeling alright. Would you like to talk to her? Alright, wait a second."

Niles covered the handset and turned to his girlfriend. He could tell by the look on her face that she already knew with whom he was speaking, so he simply asked, "Are you up to talking with him?"

C.C. sighed, looking between the phone and her meal. She'd rather eat in peace and spend a quiet afternoon with Niles, but she supposed that if Maxwell wanted to speak to her, it had to be important.

"Yeah, give me the phone," the producer reached out and took the device from his hand, taking a moment to give him a kiss on the cheek before answering. "Hello, Maxwell."

"Hello, C.C.! How are you feeling?" the British producer asked.

"I am just peachy, thanks for asking. Niles is taking _excellent care of me_ ," she directed a sly smile at the butler as she said so.

"Uh... alright," Maxwell said from the other end of the line, sounding rather uncomfortable – it must have been the way she spoke, C.C. thought. "I was calling to ask you if you wanted to come to the Broadway Guild Awards. As you well know, I never changed the company's name, and seeing as "Yetta's Letters" was a success, I thought you might want to attend."

C.C. opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out of it. What should she answer to that?! Maxwell was basically asking her to reappear in society, where everyone could see how unwell she looked and how sick she was. Besides, did she feel ready for it? Did she truly and really feel ready to go back to work? She had been craving to work for a while now, but did she truly want to jump from being at the hospital to attending a party?

It wasn't an easy decision...

And she knew that she'd have to discuss it with Niles first.

"Uh...I don't quite know about that just yet, Maxwell..." she shifted in her seat, careful to not disturb her tray.

Her voice would give away exactly how unsure she was, and she hoped that her fellow producer would have enough tact and decency to be delicate about it. He knew her health wasn't the best, still, even if she was improving. She would definitely have to see what Niles said, too – if he thought she couldn't handle it, then maybe there was a chance that it wouldn't be a good idea for her to go. Maxwell could run the company on his own, after all – this new play becoming so successful was evidence enough of that – and even if she wanted to be there, it wasn't really like she needed to be there.

"At least give it some thought, C.C.; the ceremony isn't for a few weeks yet and I took the liberty of ordering you and Niles both tickets in case you decided to come," Maxwell said. "It really would be good if you could make it – the team being back together, and all that. And there are a few people in the business who have been worried that you haven't been around the theatres recently; I'm sure they'd be delighted to see you and know how you're doing."

Okay, she was almost completely sure he was lying by this stage. A lot of their contemporaries on Broadway wouldn't care what had been happening to her, and a minority might even go so far as to say she deserved it, as well as a whole host of other colourful things. She knew Maxwell meant well, really, in trying to get her back into work, but this didn't entirely seem the right way to go about it. Especially not if it meant running into other producers, and the gossips they had for wives and partners – each one an heiress to some great and powerful family, and each one desperate for the dirt the press had been denied with C.C.'s departure from the hospital.

All through this, Niles was watching her curiously. This would definitely require a talk, the producer felt.

"I-I'll give it some thought, Maxwell," she conceded softly. "I'll let you know as soon as I can."

"Alright then, C.C.," the British producer's voice sounded more cheerful now, if not entirely satisfied with her answer. "We can speak again soon."

"Yeah, speak soon…" C.C. replied and hung up the phone. She didn't even need to tell Niles that she needed to discuss what Maxwell had just told her – he was already sitting by her side, and had draped an arm around her shoulders.

"What did he want?" he asked calmly.

C.C. heaved a sigh, leaning against her boyfriend. There was a part of her that truly wanted to go to the awards, to go back to the world she'd once worked in… but there was another part of her that was absolutely terrified. What would happen when people saw her new appearance? What would happen the moment she returned to society and people were able to see what her illness had done to her? Would she feel bad? Would she bear the stares that she was definitely going to get?

She didn't know…

The Guild Awards wouldn't be until eight weeks from then, so she supposed she still had time to gain some much needed weight and for her unhealthy pallor to give way to a healthier colour. Being outside the hospital was surely going to make wonders for her, but she had yet to see if the time she had until the Guild Awards was enough for her to recuperate enough so as to be fit to attend the awards.

Back when she had first been admitted to the clinic, she had thought that she'd jump back to work as soon as she went back home, but now work was the last thing in her mind. She had understood that her body needed time to heal, so she wanted to put her efforts in getting better instead of in reading through extensive plays or going to backers parties.

She needed to focus on slowly rebuilding her life after having suffered from cancer, and she was certain she wanted Niles to be part of it. She wanted to take her time to enjoy the days she could spend with him, to do new things with him, to have fun…

She wanted to get better.

"He… he wanted to know if I'd be interested in attending the Broadway Guild Awards," she eventually said, breaking the silence that had momentarily swelled inside the room.

"And you said you'd give it thought," Niles stated. "I heard as I was coming over."

"Yes," C.C. replied, staring off into nothing as she tried to figure out what to do. Well, whatever she wanted to do, Niles was going to be the deciding factor.

She snuggled against him, trying to make herself more comfortable but finding that to be a difficult task. She supposed thinking everything over like this was keeping her from being at ease. Probably like she'd be at the ceremony, with everyone watching and making their judgements, verbally or not.

"I'd imagine you'd jump at the chance to get back to work in some fashion," the butler glanced down towards where she was resting her head against his cheek and shoulder, and he rubbed her arm comfortingly. "Why the hesitation?"

"Well...for one thing, I'm not entirely sure I'm well enough yet," she confessed, knowing that she had to get it all out before the butler thought her silence actually meant that she was ashamed to have to go with him, which obviously wasn't true, especially considering they'd gone together last year. "I know that I need time to get better before I jump into anything. And...well, I know that with me not being completely healthy-looking, there's probably gonna be...a certain amount of staring. And probably comments, too. I just don't fully know how I'm gonna handle that."

Niles frowned – he had suspected that the way people would look at her was a cause for her hesitation. He wasn't going to lie to her, he knew that people would talk about her, especially when she still looked rather sick and when she'd take him as her date – New York's society was full of vultures that would take great delight in making snide comments about the once feared Bitch Of Broadway being reduced to skin and bones and dating a domestic.

He had never cared much about what people thought of him, but C.C. did care, and he was certain it wasn't easy for her to stoically take venomous comments when her emotional state was already rather frail.

But she couldn't allow other people's opinions to prevent her from doing something she wanted. If she truly wanted to attend, then he'd be there to support her, just as he had done these past months. They were strong together, and he wasn't going to let her fall.

"What do you say if you forget about what others would say for now, hm?"

"But Niles I-"

"C.C., trust me," he backed away so he could look into her eyes and gave her forehead a soft kiss. "Let's forget about others for a moment."

The producer hesitated. She didn't exactly know what he had in mind, but he had showed her that he was trustworthy... "Alright... I will."

"Excellent. Now, I think that the question you should ask yourself is if you want to go to the awards – I repeat myself, forget about the others. Would you like to attend if you knew you wouldn't get any comments or stares?" he asked.

"Well... yes. I do want to go... but there _will be_ comments and condescending stares."

She could almost see it – all the women from New York's Society commenting on how ugly she looked, or how sick she was, or how she had deserved what she got...

"Then, if by that time you are feeling well enough, I think you should attend," Niles, sensing she was still unconvinced, pulled the producer go him, settling her between his legs so her back rested against his chest. He then wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head on her shoulder. "Just as I told you yesterday – they aren't worth it, but you are. You are beautiful, you are a thousand times better than any of them... you have nothing to fear. We'll face them together, and if things are too much, then we can simply leave. I'll be there with you, supporting you at all times – together we are stronger than any comment they could come up with."

He then pressed a kiss to her shoulder, feeling it trembling. Confused by this, he leaned forward as far as he could, only to see C.C.'s eyes shut tight, and her face screwed up as though trying to keep herself silent. A few tears were starting to leak from the corners of her eyes and roll down her cheeks, and that was when the butler's heart broke.

"Oh C.C., please don't cry," he pleaded. He hadn't meant to make this happen – he only wanted her to see that she was better than anyone who could possibly make awful comments about her over her condition. It would take an awful person to laugh at a cancer patient in the first place. He only wanted her to be happy, and he knew returning to work would make her happy, and if she could get past the fear of people out in society making remarks, then she could go back to doing what she loved. Who knew, being more active in Broadway again might aid in her recovery. "We don't have to go, if you don't want to. If you're too worried about this, we can phone Mr Sheffield again and say that it isn't possible, and we'll never mention this again, alright?"

C.C. waved a hand dismissively, still crying quietly, "This isn't about that, you dunce."

Niles' brow furrowed, "Then...what is it about? Because I'm more than a little bit concerned by this."

"I'm just..." the producer tried to calm her breathing and wiped her eyes, letting her hand fall back into her lap. "I just don't deserve you, that's all."

Niles could only tighten his hold on her. How could she possibly think that?! How could she possibly think that she was unworthy of him?

Over the years they had had many ups and downs in their relationship, but if there was one thing he knew, it was that they deserved each other. They had lost precious time pretending to be enemies instead of enjoying the domestic bliss that they were currently experiencing, and it had taken a horrible illness for them to realise that...

The last thing he wanted was her to feel unworthy of him when that assumption was far away from the truth!

Slowly, gently, almost as though he were trying not to scare her, he took his hand to her cheek and made her look at him. He kissed her again, taking his time so as to enhance the beauty of the kiss.

She was the first to pull away, and she snuggled closer to him, as though she feared he'd disappear. "You are too good to me..."

"C.C., don't say that," he began, resting his cheek on her head.

"But it's true, Niles!" she cried. "I... I was a witch to you for years, and I... I made you believe I had suffered from a mental breakdown! You were so worried for me and I only cared about hiding it from you because I was afraid you'd pity me..." the producer buried her face in her hands. She still felt guilty about what she had done; she had not cared about his feelings and yet here he was, giving her comfort and being her rock during her recovery. How could she ever repay him?

"I gave as good as I got, love," he told her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her, both tightly and lovingly, so that she knew he wasn't going anywhere. "I understand how worried you were – but it's all in the past. We have all our lives to spend correcting what happened, so we shouldn't dwell on it because we should be spending that time enjoying ourselves together. And you do deserve me – you deserve far better than me, really, but the fact that you've chosen me is the single greatest honour I've ever had in my life. The fact that me, a mere butler, can look at a woman like you, C.C. Babcock, and call you my own astounds me every day. I am the luckiest man on the planet, and I know that every time I look at you. And to hear you sitting here and proclaiming yourself not good enough upsets me, because there is no one more suited for me to face the day with, and no one I would rather do it with. You are far better than you seem to realise, so it seems that I'll have to remind you of it every day. Which, luckily, I am more than willing to do."

C.C.'s hands slipped from her face as she listened, sniffing, and she didn't know whether or not she wanted to start crying all over again. She loved him, so much, and he loved her just as much in return. And it seemed like he had his own misgivings about whether or not he was good enough for her, too. Even though that was ridiculous! He felt honoured because she had chosen him, but clearly the honour should be all hers for him choosing her.

So maybe that was just the way things were – neither felt good enough for the other, but they were always determined to show each other how much they were worth it.

She turned around in his arms, wrapping her arms fully around his back as she enveloped him in a hug, "I love you."

It summed up everything that she felt, but it didn't seem nearly enough. He still deserved far more.

"And I love you, too," he replied softly as he wrapped his arms around her back so that they were holding each other in a tight embrace.

C.C. having cancer hadn't been easy for him – he was still so very afraid of things going wrong and her not making it... but he had a lot to thank for, too. He could finally call C.C. his own, their relationship grew stronger with each way that went past and she loved him just as much as he loved her.

Life had never been easy for either of them, but it had certainly given them their fair share of happiness. The fact that they were a couple was testament of this.

They needed to stay positive, to try and make the best of what they had, and certainly spending the day weeping was equal to wasting precious time that could be enjoyed together.

"Tell you what – what do you say if we get a nice, relaxing bath before we go for a walk, hm? Wilson said you needed to be more active, and seeing as the day is beautiful we could spend it outdoors," Niles said, relishing in the feeling of having C.C. in his arms. That was something he knew he'd never get tired of.

C.C. pulled away, an amused look on her face. "Well, I do think your idea sounds nice – especially the part of taking a bath together."

Niles' lips curled into a sly smirk. "Well, what can I say? I'm worried about the environment, so we should save water and take a bath together."

The producer scoffed as she got to her feet and pulled him along. She seemed considerably happy than a few moments ago, Niles could easily tell so. It made him so incredibly happy to know he made her feel that way...

"Oh, so you are worried about the environment, eh?" C.C. sighed in an overly-dramatic fashion. "Hm, and here was I thinking you just wanted to see me naked again!"

"What can I say, really? I am a man who appreciates areas of outstanding natural beauty," the butler gave a vague shrug, barely containing a smirk. "And sharing a bath with you helps to keep them around...and it also allows me to appreciate ones that are a little closer to home, if you catch my drift."

C.C. smirked at him over her shoulder, entwining her fingers with his as they made their way to the bathroom, "You're full of charm today."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied. "I'm like this all the time."

The producer laughed loudly, especially as Niles audibly proclaimed his confusion at her amusement, and opened the door to the bathroom. She began to gather bubble baths and other nice-smelling oils to put in the water as Niles turned on the taps, checking that it would be just the right temperature for the both of them. He knew that, even though the result of C.C.'s last bath had been a most thrilling experience, he didn't want her to be uncomfortable in too-hot water. They'd be bathing together, so he wanted it to be as enjoyable as possible.

With the water ready and the bath oils and soaps all mixed in, they began to undress, very aware of the other watching but liking it all the same. They slipped into the water together, Niles taking his place behind C.C., and they relaxed into the heat and the comfort of both the water and each other's bodies.

C.C. rested her back against his torso, her head on his shoulder, and he held her to him with one arm, using the fingertips of his other hand to brush her arm gently.

He very much felt like the luckiest man on the planet right then, and no amount of disease or snide remarks from people at awards shows who didn't matter would make him feel or think otherwise.


	14. Chapter 14

**_Chapter 14_**

 ** _Going Back_**

C.C. Babcock had never believed in love – or, at least, she had never believed that there existed what was commonly known as unconditional love.

Ever since she had been a child, her experiences with love had been somewhat unpleasant and tempestuous; her parents – the two people who were supposed to love her unconditionally – certainly couldn't be bothered and had never cared about spending quality time with her, Noel or D.D.. The few romantic relationships she had had, had ended in disaster and her adult life had been defined by loneliness.

These experiences had resulted in her believing that true love was just an invention, and that marriage was just a convenient association between two people who may or may not get along. That's why she had pinned after Maxwell for so many years – he was everything she had been taught to look for in a man: he came from a good family, was a millionaire, and was a respected producer. In her mind marrying him had seemed like the most reasonable thing to do. She was pretty, intelligent, had money, came from a good family and they had known each other for more than a decade. It was a perfect match!

But then a hurricane named Fran Fine had arrived to the Sheffield mansion, and had altered C.C.'s life. Maxwell was obviously smitten with the obnoxious nanny since she had first stepped a foot inside the mansion, and Fran's attitude towards life was a contradiction to C.C.'s logic – the woman was all love, and the worst part was that she didn't expect anything in return for the love she gave. It had infuriated her, and she had once been sure that Nanny Fine had to have a selfish reason to be a literal ray of sunshine…

When she'd discovered that she had cancer, the belief that no one could truly and really care for her had been what had made her push everyone away, but eventually she had been found by the man who she now loved like no other.

It had been Niles who had showed her that true, unconditional and uninterested love did exist – it had been his taking care of her without expecting a thing in return, it had been his bone marrow donation done purely because he loved her and because her cared for her…

Niles was, in more ways than one, her saviour.

She had let him in little by little, and his love had helped her heal – and not only physically speaking, mind you.

That's why she was certain that his presence in her life was the reason behind her outstanding recovery. Ever since she had gotten out of the hospital she had discovered that she felt better with each day that went past – she had gained a few much needed pounds, she had more energy to be up and about, her hair had slowly started to grow back… and Niles had been by her side through all of it.

Of course there had been bad days – she was realistic, she knew that there were ups and downs while in recovery – but Niles had made sure to be there for her when she felt her world was crumbling down around her. He had been there to hold her when she was in pain, he was there to give her the medication and prepare the meals she wanted when she couldn't get out of bed, and he had been the one who had kept her together when she wasn't strong enough to do it by herself.

It was no surprise that she had finally chosen to attend the Broadway Guild Awards that night – she knew it wasn't going to be easy, but if she had him by her side then everything would be alright.

C.C. had decided to use a form-fitting royal-blue dress, and had refused to use a wig. She simply didn't like them, so she'd decided to use a matching bandana instead. She turned this way and the other in front of the mirror, scanning her appearance, and for the first time in months she was happy with what she saw. Yes, she was still underweight, had no hair and was unnaturally pale, but she looked beautiful, too.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of the walk-in closet and into her room, where her boyfriend awaited, dressed in an elegant tuxedo.

"Well, how do I look?" she asked, bringing Niles' attention to her.

The butler couldn't help but stare in awe. She was absolutely stunning. If there were any looks or comments from anyone at the ceremony, it would surely only be to remark upon how utterly sublime she looked. He cast his eye over her dress, her make-up, the way she'd matched her bandana perfectly to the colour of her dress...

It almost made him feel a little underdressed, if he was honest. But he already knew he was a mere mortal in a relationship with a goddess, so it wouldn't hurt him for one night to look the part. And compared to her, everything else did seem both insignificant and incredibly unworthy.

He crossed the room to her in a few slow strides, and took her hands, still admiring every part of her that he could see, and took her hands in his.

"My, you somehow managed to disguise your hag like appearance!" he teased, but when he noticed the worried look on C.C.'s face he quickly added. "I was just kidding – you truly are beautiful," he told her, his voice filled with wonder. "I don't know whether to take you out to this award ceremony, or get down on my knees and worship you."

C.C. huffed out a laugh, "You like it, huh?"

She hadn't wanted to look worried when he had zinged her – she knew it was a joke – but part of her was still rather insecure.

The butler slipped his hands from hers and encircled her waist, smirking as he leaned in close to her face, "Very much so. I'd have to be blind not to."

C.C. locked her own arms around his neck and rested their foreheads together. "You have certainly have a way with words, Hazel – but I must warn you, it will take more than a honeyed words to take me to bed."

"And who said that was my aim? Can't I simply want to praise my woman?" he replied before trailing kisses down her neck. He smirked when she emitted a low, satisfied moan of pleasure.

"If you keep that up we won't make it to the ceremony," she said, her voice sounding slightly strained. Much to her delight, he continued his onslaught, and his hands traced her curves with abandon. God... the way he touched her was heavenly...

But she had to pull away. They needed to go. It's not like they couldn't resume their more than pleasurable activities once they came back from the party.

"As much as I am enjoying this," she said, pulling away and resting her hands on his shoulders. "We should go. We mustn't be late, after all."

Niles sighed dramatically, but he did disentangled himself from her. "Alright, alright... I'll behave," he offered her his arm. "Shall we?"

"Off we go, then."

The limo was already awaiting for them when they made it out of her building – Maxwell and Fran were in it, too, and the British producer was practically beaming. He had wanted to have his business partner back for a while now. Actually, Maxwell and C.C. spent the way to the awards discussing business and planning their acceptance speech, while Fran and Niles exchanged the latest gossip – and considering Mrs Sheffield had gone to The Chatterbox that afternoon, she had a lot of juicy gossips to discuss.

When the limo finally came to a halt, Fran and Max were the first to get out, but C.C. knew that the press was expecting her. It was then when her previous resolution started to waver – what if she couldn't take the comments? What if-

"It will be okay," he murmured and dropped a kiss on her cheek. "Take my hands and let's face the music."

She gripped his hand tightly, took in a deep breath, and gave him a grateful smile. It didn't stay on her face as long as she'd hoped. She might have looked a little more confident as Niles stepped out in order to help her get out of the limo. Camera flashes went off from every angle as she did, and then the journalists' questions began like a deafening onslaught – one coming after the other so quickly, desperate to catch her attention, that she couldn't reply to the first one before the next had started up.

 _"Miss Babcock, are you feeling any better? What do the doctors say about your prognosis?"_

 _"Miss Babcock, how does it feel to be back out working for Maxwell Sheffield again?"_

" _Miss Babcock, do you think your new relationship has had an impact on your recovery?"_

Niles deflected the reporters that he could and pulled her closer, away from the intruding press. She slipped his arm through his as they made their way along. The doors to the building seemed like they might as well be miles away, even though she knew it was only a few yards at the most and could clearly see Maxwell and Fran waiting for them inside.

"Let's just get inside, love," Niles muttered to her. "If you don't feel up to answering them, you don't have to. Remember; you don't owe them anything."

Without replying, C.C. nodded and straightened up as much as she could. He was right. She didn't owe those journalists anything – they didn't know her, and had no right to know her personal business. At least Michelle Prince wasn't there, anyway. Her editor must have either sent someone else to cover the event, or decided to leave it entirely, just in case his reporter got assaulted again.

They walked as quickly as they could whilst putting on the appearance of not caring, and, not as soon as C.C. would have liked but soon enough, they passed through the door and into the lobby.

It was almost as though they had crossed some type of barrier – moments ago she had been deafened by the many questions being fired at her, but now that they were in the lobby, a tranquil silence enveloped them.

They could hear the muffled music coming from the adjacent room, and it gave C.C. a strange sense of peace. It had been months since she had last attended this type of events, and she couldn't help but feel she was back in her world at long last.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" she asked while clasping her hands in a concluding fashion. "Time's a-waistin'!"

Neither Fran, Max nor Niles dared to contradict her or comment on her excitement, so they simply made their way to the next pair of doors, which were the only thing that separated them from the rest of the guests. Just as when they had gone out of the limo, Maxwell and Fran were the first to step into the room, but soon it was their turn, and C.C. again began to fill slightly insecure.

She only gripped Niles' hand again, and geared herself up – she could take this, she was strong...

"Are you ready?" he asked.

She simply nodded, and the doors were soon opened.

An almost sepulchral silence invaded the room for some seconds, and it didn't take long for the murmurs to begin.

 _"Oh, God, she is so thin!"_

 _"... and have you heard she is dating the butler? Well, it's no wonder since..."_

 _"The poor woman! She is completely bald..."_

They carefully made their way down the steps towards their seats, C.C.'s grip on Niles becoming vice-like. At least with the journalists, it had mostly been so loud out there that she didn't catch most of it. In here, the orchestra warming up wasn't nearly loud enough to keep out the muttering going on all around her.

 _"I heard she tried to keep it from everyone, too..."_

" _Well, I wouldn't want anyone to see me like that, either..."_

 _"Can you imagine? The comments some people would make would be outrageous..."_

C.C. suddenly didn't know if she could do it anymore. Their seats were still so far away, but the door was an equal distance, and if she heard one more comment about her missing hair or her practically skeletal frame, she feared she'd just lay down on the floor and hope that whatever cancer was left could somehow make a complete and aggressive resurgence and kill her instantly.

Niles' thumb brushed the back of her hand, and she looked over at him.

"Don't think about them," he murmured. "Just listen to my voice and think about the steps in front of you. We're almost there, and the Sheffields are with us, so Fran will ensure you don't hear a thing."

She nodded in reply, still unsure, "Okay."

He squeezed her hand, "Remember – you are better than they are."

She appreciated him trying to help like this, and kept going. She could fake confidence, at least, like she had done outside going past the journalists. Head held high, back and shoulders straight. That was all it took. And confidently descending the stairs towards her seat, which didn't seem so far away now.

She could still feel eyes burning holes in her back, but if she'd turned to look, she'd know the gossipers behind her had won.

The producer remained calm and composed all the way to her seat – she wouldn't give them the satisfaction to show weakness or how deep their vicious comments had affected her. Niles made her feel beautiful every day, but sometimes, the stares got the best of her and she doubted herself.

Toxic thoughts such as that Niles only saw her beautiful because he loved her plagued her mind, but she supposed her fears were one of the many psychological consequences of being a cancer patient. Wilson had told her that most cancer patients struggled with regaining their self-esteem after going through treatment, but that it was just a matter of time until she felt okay with herself again.

She truly hoped it was only a matter of time…

Once everyone was sitting, the ceremony proper began and C.C. finally began to relax. She even laughed when Andrew Lloyd Webber was chosen to announce the winner of one of the categories for which their play had been nominated – that had visibly upset Maxwell.

It wasn't really a surprise when "Yetta's Letters" won, but it was thrilling nonetheless. C.C. was soon being hugged and kissed by an ecstatic Niles, and she could only lose herself in his embrace. Eventually they had had to pull away – it was time to go, get the award and pronounce their acceptance speech.

Maxwell offered her his arm and they walked together to the stage, where Lloyd Webber (who was sporting a rather forced smile) awaited with their award.

The crows went absolutely silent when she was handed the award – she knew it was only seconds until she was required to speak in front of the crowd.

She calmly handed the award to Maxwell and walked towards the microphone, still keeping up the façade of being absolutely calmed and oblivious of the new wave of whispers being heard in the auditorium.

"Thank you; thank you, everyone, for this award. My esteemed colleague and I couldn't be happier to receive it," she began, waiting for the last of the applause to die down before she properly began her speech – not that she had anything prepared, for obvious reasons, but making one up as she went along whilst putting on a pretence of reading a speech from memory would only look better, and maybe give her a little more confidence for the after party, when she'd have to face at least a few of the people she'd heard whispering about her.

Taking in a deep breath, she continued, "I suppose I should start of by thanking my business partner for allowing me to accept this award with him, because as you all know, I have had something of a turbulent time recently, and haven't been able to work as much as I would have liked. My illness, as you can probably all see, nearly completely took it out of me, and recovery came first. It still does. And on that note, my special thanks goes to the man I love – Niles Brightmore, who has been my rock throughout this entire ordeal. I can only hope that I can make it up to you in the years to come. I'm certainly going to try my hardest. Thank you."

She stepped away from the microphone to a smattering of polite applause, and probably more muttered comments than she would have liked.

Maxwell's speech went a little slower than she would have liked, too – she could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on them, and it took all her willpower to not usher him off-stage before he had finished thanking his family for what felt like the hundredth time in one speech. Luckily, the orchestra started up again just as Maxwell had finished, and they were allowed to return to their seats.

Niles gave her a quick kiss before they sat down again, but he did reach for her hand and entwined their fingers together. It truly was nice to have someone to trust and who cared for her – it was new, different... and she liked it.

The ceremony extended for another hour and a half, and C.C. started to feel the exhaustion; she was still weak, there was no sense in denying it, but she wanted to stay for a little while longer. Part of her just wanted to show the world she was still strong, no matter how sick she was.

It felt almost like a blessing when they were allowed to go to the after party – C.C. was craving two things that it would offer: food and dancing with Niles.

Her appetite had returned in the last few weeks, and seeing as she needed to gain, at least, forty pounds, she indulged in anything she liked.

They had been given one of the best tables in the room. Niles – who had sensed her tiredness – walked her to it and helped her to her seat. He supposed that sitting down for a while and eating dinner would give her a little more energy.

"Do you want me to go get you something to drink?" Niles asked.

"I could use a diet soda. And bring me some of those canapés the busboys are offering!"

"Ah, the beast is hungry," he leaned down and placed a kiss on her lips before heading to the bar. "I'll be right back – try not to eat any poor mortal while I am gone, okay?"

She huffed out a laugh. A zinger... she needed that. Not to get her wrong, she loved when he was sweet and called her by loving nicknames, but she still enjoyed their wordplay.

"I won't make promises I might not be able to keep – after all, it could take you a century to move that carcass to the bar and back!" she practically screamed so he could hear, and she couldn't help but laugh at the feigned glare she got as an answer.

How she loved this man...

"Well, well, well," a haughty and more than mocking voice said from behind her. "If it isn't C.C. Babcock! I must confess, I wasn't expecting to see you here!"

C.C. cringed. She knew that voice – Miriam DuPont.

Tall. Striking. Elegant. Well-bred.

Also quite possibly her least favourite person on Earth.

C.C. forced a smile onto her face and rose from her chair to greet the new arrival with outstretched arms and air kisses either side of her cheeks.

"Miriam, such a pleasure to see you...!" she lied. It wasn't even a particularly good lie, but for the sake of keeping up appearances, it was best to be civil.

"Likewise, dear, likewise," Miriam cast her emerald eyes over C.C.'s form, and the corners of her mouth turned downwards, as if both concerned and thinking something over at the same time. She reached out a hand like she was going to touch C.C.'s shoulder, but never reached it, and gestured at the producer's chair. "But don't wear yourself out on my account! You get back to your seat. We wouldn't want you wearing yourself out, now."

C.C. had to smile to stop herself from grinding her teeth. The woman was being incredibly patronising, and she knew it, too. The producer wouldn't sit in Miriam's presence if the other socialite were standing – she wasn't about to act the invalid when other people expected her to, and she wasn't going to let the other woman look down on her – metaphorically or otherwise – while they talked, which was obviously what Miriam wanted for some reason.

"Of course not," C.C. stared at Miriam whilst pulling out both her own chair and Niles'. "But why don't you join me so we can chat for a while? My date is getting food right now, so I doubt he'll mind if you take his seat for a minute or two."

"Oh... the butler... I had forgotten you two are an item now," she simpered. "I must say, I didn't expect it from you, darling!"

C.C. took in one, two, three deep breaths. She could take the criticism, but the woman better watch her mouth when it came to Niles.

"And he's made me the happiest woman on Earth, Miriam," she said, never losing her fake smile. "And do tell me, how's your divorce going? I am truly sorry for what he did to you, darling."

C.C. smirked when Miriam's smile faltered. B.B. had told her about Miriam's ugly divorce – apparently, the latter was absolutely in love with her husband, but he had left her for her younger sister. Needless to say, it had been quite a scandal, and Miriam was still sore about it.

"As well as your treatment, I suppose," the other socialite shot back. It was lucky that most people were busy eating or dancing, for this encounter between the two socialites was soon escalating into an open war. "I must say, I would have hidden too – I wouldn't want anyone to see me in that state."

C.C. gritted her teeth. She had to remain calmed, to show now weakness... but, as Noel liked to say, she wasn't going to take shit from anyone.

"Oh, it had nothing to do with that, dear," C.C. said, tapping the other woman's arm in a 'friendly' manner. "And thankfully the side effects wear off with time – it's good to know I actually have someone who loves me for what I am and that has supported me through my treatment. Oh, and is it true that your younger sister is pregnant now? Congratulations!"

Beneath her smile, Miriam looked like she'd swallowed something extremely bitter, "Thank you. She'll be happy to hear that you know. Children really are a gift, don't you think? I do hope that you and your...other half...will consider at least trying – that is, if the weight loss and the chemotherapy hasn't...done any lasting damage."

She punctuated her statement by effortlessly lifting a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter.

"It would be such a pity if it had," she raised an eyebrow at C.C. as she took a sip from her glass.

Of all the things Miriam could have possibly said, that was, by far, the one that hurt the most. The other woman had brought to the conversation one of her deepest fears – that she'd never be able to have children.

She knew Niles wanted children – she had heard him say so on many an occasion – and the thought of not being able to form a family together cut through her soul like a sharp knife. Wilson had told her that infertility was a small (but real) possibility, and there was a high change that – even if she was able to get pregnant – she'd have trouble conceiving.

It had been some months since she had last had her period. It was not a surprise she was suffering from amenorrhea when she was so terribly underweight, so touching the subject of her fertility was more than a low blow.

There was a small, irrational part of herself that feared that Niles would love her less if she became infertile.

But she wouldn't show Miriam that. She had to curl the edges of herself and hide them where no one could see. She had to compress her anguish and fears and hide them in the darkest corner of her soul.

"I trust I'll be fine – and it's far too soon to talk about children, after all! We haven't gotten married yet, and right now children aren't a priority," she replied, her smile being as bright as the sun. "In any case, if we do have trouble, there are treatments or even adoption – I am not worried about that. And speaking of children, is it true that your ex-husband got complete custody of your kids? And he cheated on you? I must say, that is a shame, dear."

Miriam could clearly see that the producer wasn't about to be beaten so easily, even after she'd used the biggest gun in her arsenal. It was no use – the Babcocks were famous for how stalwart they were, and she could see the butler approaching the table again, and the last thing she needed was the servant jumping to C.C.'s defence. Best to make a tactical retreat. The socialite's smile began to falter, and with one last simpering smile, she turned away.

"Always a pleasure to see you, C.C.," Miriam nodded stiffly, before disappearing once more into the crowds to mingle.

C.C. huffed out a breath and collapsed back into her seat, glad that the other socialite had gone. She knew it would be hard going, but she hadn't quite expected this. Having other people talking about how it felt to lose her hair and to be so dramatically underweight, she had been ready for. Questions about her fertility...that was a different story.

She must have looked suitably depressed when Niles returned to the table, because he slid her plate onto the table in front of her and took his own seat with a frown.

"I'm only gone five minutes and when I get back you look like someone just told you about a death," he said, rubbing her knee affectionately before straightening up to look her in the face. "What's the matter? Did someone tell you about a death?"

C.C. shook her head and sighed. She needed to talk to him about this, but it wasn't time yet. Maybe when they got home, if she was feeling up to it.

"I'll tell you later," she muttered, quickly turning to her food, but then hesitating and turning back. "Just...promise you'll love me, no matter what?"

Niles blinked at her, before chuckling softly, "I don't have to promise to do that! I'll just do it anyway."

"Humour me," she told him firmly. "Promise that you'll love me, no matter what."

The smile faded away from the butler's face, and it was replaced by a look of seriousness and confusion, "C.C., what's the matter?"

He looked up in the direction of where Miriam had been standing and subsequently disappeared into the crowd. His eyes narrowed when he spotted a familiar form surrounded by a group of about three or four men.

"That woman – you were talking with her just now, weren't you?" he asked C.C. softly, waiting for her to nod in reply before continuing. "What happened?"

C.C. looked back at her meal, fearing he might see the sadness in her eyes. By now she was certain they were going to talk about this – he wasn't going to let it go – so there was no sense in trying to try to shrug it off. But she didn't want to talk about it there… not now.

If she was being honest, she simply wanted to finish her meal and go home. Although it had been nice to go back to her old world, she wasn't in the mood to stay at the party any longer – she was tired, extremely tired, and she was fed up with people murmuring about how unwell she looked, how thin she was or about her lack of hair. Besides, Miriam's comment had truly knocked for six, and right then she only wanted to go to bed.

"Can we talk about this at home?" she said before taking a bite of her meal.

She heard him sigh – she knew that sigh… it was the one he gave every time she chose to avoid a clearly important subject.

"C.C., I thi-"

"Niles," she cut him off, looking up at him. He was worried, she could read it in his eyes. "Please… not here. Not where everyone can hear. I promise I'll tell you at home – besides, I'm feeling rather tired, so we could get going as soon as I finish my meal. Okay?"

He thought this over for some moments. It was obvious she didn't want to discuss what had happened with the other woman there and would not change her mind no matter what he said. But she had agreed to discuss it at home, and seeing as she was already worn out it wouldn't be long until that happened.

He sighed again, in a resigned fashion. "Alright. Let's talk at home."

She smiled back at him as she reached out for his hand and gave it a squeeze. He was truly wonderful… he not only respected her need to be in a more private environment but he also offered silent support since he had already realised she was not okay. Sometimes she didn't exactly know how she had gotten so lucky…

The rest of the meal was uneventful. C.C. made small talk with some old acquaintances, a few people asked how she was doing and truly wished her to get better, and Fran entertained her with hilarious – and sometimes plain ridiculous – family anecdotes. The former nanny truly was a blessing sometimes… she managed to bring her out of her gloomy thoughts with surprising ease. After saying their goodbyes to the Sheffields and explaining that C.C. was tired and needed to make an early leave, they left the ballroom and took a cab home.

The ride back to the penthouse was silent, and Niles only held her to him, hoping that his touch helped soothe her. It seemed to work, for she slowly relaxed and, by the time they made it back to her penthouse she looked slightly more at ease than she was at the party.

However, he noticed she was avoiding their talk – she made an excuse of needing a bath (this time alone) as soon as they crossed the threshold; she took almost forty-five minutes in the bath, and an extra fifteen to get changed into her pyjamas before climbing into their bed. He noticed she was avoiding his gaze, so he got into bed with her, wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him.

"I am not going to let this go, Babcock," he said in a soft voice and kissed her neck. "What happened at the party?"

A long silence followed his question, but eventually C.C. heaved a sigh and spoke, "She… made a comment that upset me… a comment about me being infertile," she snuggled closer to him, basking in the feeling of safety that being in his embrace provided.

The words had almost the same effect as a punch in the gut for Niles. It was quickly replaced by another emotion that many people would feel after being physically assaulted, too – anger. How dare that... _shrew_...that C.C. had been speaking to make such a comment!

The topic of children hadn't come up in their relationship really, even if he had expressed the desire to have his own, he had been prepared to wait, both for marriage and to see how C.C. felt about the subject before bringing up the possibility of trying. But that was neither here nor there in this – whomever this woman was, she had no right to talk about something so private and so delicate so flippantly, in such a way as to hurt someone else.

And it had clearly hurt C.C. deeply.

He pulled her as close as was possible, "She had no right to do that."

"I know, but the damage is done," the producer mumbled. "And if she catches on that that's one of the reasons we left, she won't let go of it, either."

Niles sighed. He could have guessed that that would be the case. Anyone who was despicable enough to use the possibility of infertility as a weapon was despicable enough to spread it as an awful piece of gossip, too.

But they didn't know one way or another if C.C. even was...wouldn't be able to...he didn't really like thinking about it, but it was only a possibility at this point.

Not that it would mean he loved her any less if she was – far from it!

Perhaps that was why she had been so desperate for him to tell her how much he loved her...and promise that he would always love her. She was afraid that if she couldn't have children, he'd stop...

He made his hold on her even tighter, hoping that his arms could somehow become a shield that would protect her from everything and everyone that tried to hurt her. He couldn't care less if she ended up not being able to have children; he wasn't with her because she could give him children, he was with her because he loved her. With or without children.

"I want you to listen to me, and listen well – I love you. I'll love you no matter what, even if we can't have children – which is only a possibility, mind you."

He felt her shaking in his arms, and he loosened his grip momentarily so she could turn to face him. It was just that she was so tired of this... she was tired of her illness stealing things from her – it had taken her hair, her health, her energy... and now it might take her away the possibility to start a family?

She had never particularly felt that having children was a priority, but that didn't mean she didn't want them. She wanted to form a family with the man she loved...

"But... but you want children! How could you love me-"

He silenced her with a kiss. "Don't even dare to finish that sentence. I love you, C.C., and yes I do want children, but I want you more than I want them."

The producer wrapped her arms around his back and buried her face in the crook of his neck. She took a moment to breathe in his scent, to savour the bliss of being in his arms... there was a time when she'd have been horrified to be doing this with him, but now she couldn't imagine being this intimate with anyone else.

"You mean it?" she asked in an almost childlike voice.

"I do. But just for you to know, if having children is truly important to you – or rather, to us – then, when the time comes, we can recur to treatments or even adoption. And this is also hypothetical because we still don't know if you can't conceive."

"No… you're right," she shuddered out a breath, trying to calm herself. She had never felt so relieved, nor had her heart ever swelled quite so much with love as she was feeling right that instant. He wasn't going to stop loving her because of this – how could she possibly think that?

And he was right – it was all hypothetical, anyway. They hadn't any proof to say one way or the other. And even if they did get proof to suggest that...something might be up, they had options. Treatments, or adoption. Nothing was stopping them forming the family they wanted in the future.

She'd just let Miriam's bitterness get to her, that was all. The other woman had only brought it up because she was envious of C.C.'s relationship, and because she didn't have her own children living with her anymore. Not that C.C. particularly pitied them that – Miriam didn't exactly seem an ideal mother whenever she'd seen them at events with her, which was a rare sight in itself. She seemed to treat them like dolls that she could dress up and bring along whenever she felt like it.

No. She wasn't going to let a woman like that have any effect on how she felt. She'd be letting Miriam win if she did.

She felt Niles rubbing her back.

"Feeling any better?" he murmured. "I know me saying all this is probably not enough, but..."

"It is enough," she cut him off. "It's more than enough."

The producer shifted in his embrace again, forcing Niles to lie flat on his back so she could rest her head on his chest, just over his heart. She loved hearing the tranquil thumping of it against his chest – it was almost lulling...

Niles reached out for the duvet and covered them both before he closed his eyes and simply enjoyed holding her in his arms. It hadn't taken them long to discover just how wonderful intimacy with each other could be, and the most wonderful thing about it was that it didn't consist of just making love, it also included all the times they'd hold each other as they fell asleep, cuddling in the sofa, bathing together...

It was truly a new experience for both of them, and it was certainly proving that they were meant to be. They simply couldn't imagine sharing life with anyone else.

Niles also liked to watch C.C. sleep, so it wasn't uncommon for him to remain awake long after she had fallen asleep. This time was not the exception.

It didn't take long for her to be completely under, which was more than understandable considering the excitement of the day. They only had a few more weeks to enjoy like this, he thought, and then they'd have to go back to the hospital...

Only this time she'd be in an isolated room.

Wilson had told him that he would still be able to visit her, but he'd have to wear a mask and scrubs every time he went to see her. For, at least, a month or so, he wouldn't be able to hold her as he had grown used to do, and she'll also have to face a three month stay at the hospital...

It was going to be difficult, for the both of them. C.C. would have to spend most of that time alone, and he wouldn't be able to do anything to make it seem better – he'd try his hardest by visiting as often as he could, of course, but there would be times that he couldn't. He'd have to return to work, and let C.C. rest from the treatment just to start with. And what about night times? His own bed would feel horribly large and cold, without her body next to his own. He'd just have to imagine her warm embrace, and her kisses, and the feeling of being able to lie there holding her after they had finished lovemaking, completely overwhelmed and immeasurably satisfied.

At least one month of not feeling that love – of knowing she was out there, feeling the same way, but not able to do anything about it.

After having all this time together, having to let her go again, even for a little while, definitely seemed to be the hardest thing he'd ever have to do.

But when those three months were up, he wouldn't have to do it again. She could be entirely well – the treatment could work and the cancer could go. So he supposed he'd just have to put up with the loneliness and missing her in the meantime.

And then they could really start planning for the future.

He cast his eyes down towards C.C., and ran one finger lightly over the fingers of her left hand.

He definitely knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

Maybe it was time to start thinking about how that was going to happen.

* * *

 **AN: Hello! Here you have another chapter :) Thank you so muchfor your reviews! They certainly keep us encouraged. We hope you like the two chapters we uploaded and we hope to get your feedback!**

 **H &L**


	15. Chapter 15

**_Chapter 15_**

 ** _Accidental Propositions_**

Ever since Niles and C.C. had started living together – they knew Niles was there to stay and not just because she needed someone to take care of her due to her illness – C.C. had gotten used to waking up with the smell of a delicious breakfast.

It was always something different – one day he'd make her favourite pancakes with hot chocolate, and another he'd prepare bacon, scrambled eggs and toast. Niles liked spoiling her by preparing all kinds of delicious treats, and he was always more than happy to cook for her at any moment or hour. Besides, she did need to eat so as to regain some much needed weight, and Niles always made sure to give C.C. the bigger portion or serving.

He was just _that_ good.

That morning the scent of waffles and a freshly made pot of coffee were floating in the air, making C.C. smile while she stirred in bed as she slowly woke up. It was not unusual for him to be out of bed before her, so she simply stretched and took some moments to enjoy the feeling of the sun that was trickling through the window and warming her pale skin.

She had never been a morning person, but now mornings were her favourite part of the day.

And it was all thanks to _him_...

C.C. eventually sat up and reached out for her robe – Niles always left it at the foot of their bed so she needn't look for it in the bathroom – and smiled when she noticed her slippers neatly placed by her bedside table, too.

"Morning," she said when she got to the kitchen and found Niles serving their breakfast. He had placed two plates on a tray, and knowing him, he was going to suggest eating in the sofa, where they could comfortably watch the news.

"Morning, love," he walked to her and gave her a kiss. He had a surprise planned for her – ever since she had gotten out of the hospital they had gone out on a few dates, but he wanted this day to be truly special. He wanted her to have a wonderful time. "How are you feeling today?"

"Ah, just peachy!" she replied, already making her way to the sofa.

The day was already going well, then. Good.

It would only get better, too, if everything went to plan. He'd managed to book a table for two at a nice restaurant not too far away, and then he supposed he'd see what C.C. wanted to do afterwards. A horse-drawn carriage in Central Park. A walk through the sign-lit, if slightly crowded, Times Square. Music and dancing in an upmarket club. Anything sounded good to him, as long as they were enjoying themselves together.

He carried in the tray containing their breakfast – waffles, with cream and strawberries, and cups of coffee. They snuggled close together, sharing the tray between them as they ate, and Niles thought about when it would be best to mention his plan for the evening.

"So, what's on the agenda for today, Hazel?" C.C. asked between bites of waffle.

Well, that was convenient.

"Actually, I have something of a surprise for you," he began, waiting for her to swallow the last bite of her breakfast and look up at him before continuing. "How does going out for dinner tonight sound? That restaurant we were talking about the other day had a table available. And afterwards, we can do whatever you like – dancing, a walk in the city, whatever you want."

C.C. arched an amused eyebrow, taking another bite of her breakfast. "Are you inviting me out on a date, Butler Boy?"

"A date? I was merely suggesting taking my favourite dog out for a walk!" he teased. "On that note, I should start looking for your leash."

The producer laughed and snuggled closer to him. She truly appreciated his efforts to keep her entertained during the last few weeks of freedom she had left. C.C. wasn't happy about having to return to the hospital – honestly, she could barely believe that almost ten weeks had already gone past since she had come back home – but the sooner she had the transplant, the sooner they could start building a future together. There was a part of her that knew that her cancer had made her life come to a temporary standstill – she couldn't plan ahead when her very own survival was still in doubt – and Niles had willingly put his life in one, too, since the moment he chose to have a relationship with her. That was one of the many things that made this man so special to her.

"If you keep that up I'll kick you out of my bed tonight! You know how animals get possessive with their territory," she said, putting some more cream on her waffles. "But I must admit your idea does sound nice."

"What? Putting you on a leash?" he said with a rather sly smile.

"Not even in your dreams, Hazel," she pointed a warning finger at him.

Niles sighed exaggeratedly, feigning disappointment. "Ah, that's a shame! You can't blame a man for trying, though."

"You pervert," C.C. chuckled and pulled him down for a kiss – his lips tasted of cream and strawberries.

"And you love me just the same."

She cupped his cheek. She loved the way he looked at her when they cuddled – there was a peculiar tenderness in his features, a softness that he usually kept hidden from everyone but her. For years he had kept his love under wraps, but now, every time they shared intimate moments like this, she felt like he wanted her to see the extent of his love for her, as though he wanted to show her just how much he cared for her and how happy being with her made him.

"Yes I do," C.C. said softly. "Very much."

"Good," Niles murmured gently back. "Because I love you very much, too."

He planted a kiss on her forehead, and then another one on her lips, and they continued to hold each other close as they finished their breakfast. When they were done, Niles took the tray back to the kitchen, washed up, and quietly watched from the doorway as C.C. continued to watch the television, the screen occasionally flicking to a different channel as the producer got bored with whatever was on.

It would be quite a while before either of them needed to start getting ready for dinner. Well, it gave C.C. plenty of time to rest, but what could he do in the meantime?

One idea did spring to mind: phase one of his plan of action, and arguably the most important. No plan like this could be successful without it, and he wanted more than anything for it to be successful.

It would mean leaving C.C. to go out for what would probably be a good couple of hours, though. It was either that, or bring her along and give the game away when she figured out the type of store he'd gone into. And he wanted this to be a surprise.

No, he'd have to leave the penthouse for a little while, and then hide his purchase when he got back. He didn't like doing it, in case she needed his help with something, but if he checked with her that she really was alright, would be for at least two hours, and made up some believable excuse as to why he couldn't be there, he just might be able to pull it off without a hitch.

As if on cue, the phone rang. Niles supposed it was probably Mr Sheffield – after their hasty exit from the Guild Awards two weeks ago, it had become almost a habit of Maxwell's to periodically call the penthouse to see how C.C. was doing.

His suspicions were soon proven correct when he heard another British voice coming from the other end of the line.

"Hello, sir. To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?"

"Oh, it's nothing, Old Man. We were just about to leave for the doctor with Fran – she is having an ultrasound – and we wanted to know how C.C. was feeling today," Maxwell said.

Niles felt like fist-pumping. It was as though destiny was gifting him a perfect alibi!

"Of course, sir. She is feeling okay – rest is all she needs."

"That's good to hear! Then, seeing as she is feeling alright, would you mind asking her to go through that file I gave her last week?"

"I don't mind in the slightest, sir! I'll ask her about it, too, but I'm sure she'll be okay," Niles spoke a little more loudly, making sure C.C. caught what he had just said. He smiled to himself when he saw her turning her head in his direction.

After exchanging a quick goodbye with Maxwell, Niles hung the phone and went back into the living room, where his curious girlfriend awaited. She had even turned down the volume so she could hear his conversation.

"What did Maxwell want?" she asked, as she shuffled over so he could sit by her side. Niles, however, remained standing.

"You needn't move, love. Maxwell called me because he was heading out to a last minute meeting with Brighton's teacher – apparently he got into trouble again – and asked me if I could take Mrs Sheffield to her doctor's appointment. Is it alright for you if I go? Or do you need me to stay?" Niles asked, trying to keep a nonchalant façade. He knew he had to keep calm for C.C. to believe his lie. "Oh, and he also told me to ask if you could give the file he gave you a quick read."

"Oh, of course not," she began looking around for her bag, where she knew she'd left the file, and then suddenly stopped and looked at him again. "Will you be long at this doctor's thing? It won't affect our plans, right?"

She seemed to be buying it. He knew that the producer wouldn't ask many questions about whether or not Brighton actually did get into trouble at school. But the doctor's appointment could have questions attached. He'd have to bribe Fran to go along with it for a while, seeing as she'd be so excited she might slip up and tell. But a good cheesecake or two would probably keep the woman silent on anything until their first anniversary had passed if he wanted. And questions made it more believable, anyway. If it was clean, it could look too highly polished, and that would be a dead giveaway for a fabricated story.

He hurried around, gathering his jacket and his keys, "No, no – of course not."

C.C. smiled, "Good. Then you can go help Nanny Fine with her appointment."

"I'm glad I asked permission first," Niles smirked, walking towards her and bending over the sofa to press a kiss to her lips. "Love you. I'll come back as soon as I can."

"Love you, too," the producer replied as she returned to searching for that all-important file. "And you'd better be."

Niles laughed – more to himself than anything – as he made his way out of the penthouse.

As he closed the front door behind him, he couldn't believe it had actually worked!

Well, it wasn't all done yet – it was more a case of " _so far, so good"._

* * *

Niles almost couldn't believe it. It had taken him three hours and a half and visiting seven different jeweller's shops, but he had finally found it.

He had finally found the perfect engagement ring for C.C..

He had known it as soon as his eyes spotted the 10 karat, oval-shaped diamond set in red gold. It oozed elegance and beauty – two traits that he associated with C.C.. It had been quite expensive, too, but he didn't care – she only deserved the best, after all.

Of course he was not planning on proposing any time soon, her recovery had to come first, but maybe he could pluck up his courage and pop the question a little while after she'd come back home from her second stay at the hospital.

He just wanted to have the ring ready for when that opportunity came, that was all.

"Babcock, I am back!" he announced as he opened the door.

But she didn't answer...

"C.C.?" he tried again as he closed the door, momentarily forgetting about his plan to hide the ring as soon as he got home.

Venturing into the penthouse, Niles began to panic. Why wasn't she responding? Was she asleep?

 _Please, let her be asleep..._

And that's when he heard it, a weak whimper coming from inside the bathroom. Not wanting to waste time, he carelessly placed the ring on her vanity and ran to the bathroom, kicking the door open when he got there. Much to his chagrin, he found C.C. – who had a few tears running down her cheeks – lying inside the bathtub. He knew the look on her face, he had seen it to many times before... it was the exact same look she had whenever she was suffering from neuropathy.

 _Shit._

The butler immediately rushed to her side and knelt by the tub, taking her hand in his.

C.C. looked up at him through half-open eyes, pain clearly still present, "You're back..."

Niles wanted to kick himself.

How could he have been so stupid as to leave her alone for so long like that? He couldn't wait to make her his wife, and yet a good husband would never do something so careless. Her health came first, not some ring that he could have gone out and bought at any time.

All his previous enthusiasm was put to one side with his now-slightly-resented purchase, and he squeezed her hand gently, "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry..."

"Don't be," she shook her head lightly, probably not able to move much more than she did because of the pain. "You had to go. And I managed to run this bath myself, so that's something."

Her words were supposed to absolve him of blame, but it only made him hate himself more. If he hadn't made up that stupid excuse – if he had waited – he'd be helping her through the neuropathy right that moment and maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

Well, sitting around wasn't helping either, so he had to start seeing about that, too. He could verbally punish himself when she wasn't feeling the effects quite so much.

"Do you need your medication?" he asked. "On a scale of one to ten, how bad is it?"

"It's bad," she shifted inside the water – finding a comfortable position to rest was proving impossible.

He sighed. It was obvious that she was in pain, but he needed to know exactly how bad it was. It was part of their agreement concerning her medication; if the pain was between five and seven, he gave her half a pill, and if it was between eight and ten then she took one whole pill. "C.C., please, you know you need to give me a number," he said softly, brushing the back of her hand with his thumb. "Try to do it, love."

The producer whimpered. The pain was terrible, it had been a while since she had last been in so much pain. Truth to be told, she had fruitlessly looked for the pills herself a little while before she got into the bath – she had been able to tell this bout of pain was going to be particularly bad since the moment she'd first felt the familiar tingling in her feet.

In her mind the pain she was feeling was a perfect ten, but she didn't want to make him feel worse than he already did – the guilt so clearly distinguishable in his eyes told her Niles was currently mentally kicking himself for having left her alone for an extended period of time. The poor man… this wasn't his fault! He had no way of knowing that she'd be in pain, and it was not fair to expect him to be by her side at all times – he needed his space, too.

Maybe she should lie… tell him it was better than it really was. In that way she'd get her pill and he wouldn't get too worried.

"I'd say eight and a half, maybe nine," she finally responded, gripping his hand as a new wave of pain surged her body.

Niles grimaced. It was truly bad… last time this had happened she had given the pain a four and a half, and now the pain had doubled! He needed to act quickly.

"I'll go get your medicine now, but first we need to get you out of here and into bed."

Niles rose to his feet and reached out for a towel from the rack, went back to their room and spread it over the bed. He then got the pills from their hiding place, prepared the bed for C.C. by piling some pillows against the headboard on her side of the bed – in that way she'd be able to sit with her back slightly raised, just like when she was at the hospital – and got her a glass of water from the kitchen before walking back into the bathroom.

"Alright, love," he said as he bent down and slipped one arm beneath her knees and the other around her back. "Let's get you out of here."

C.C. nodded weakly as she wrapped one arm around his neck, allowing him to lift her in his arms with ease, as though she were a rag doll. He carried her back to their bed and carefully lowered her onto the towel, which he then used to wrap her up.

He helped her to take the medication, and held her just as he would have done at the hospital while they waited for the painkillers to take effect. C.C. lay more against him than against the pillows, half-sprawled over his chest, and rested her head just under his chin. Niles didn't mind how wet her body was, even though she was still dripping from the bath. He'd worry about drying himself off when she wasn't in pain anymore.

"...'M sorry," the producer mumbled. "This probably ruined your plans for our date night."

He didn't like that she was insinuating that it was all somehow her fault. She couldn't prevent the pain all the more she could prevent having the disease in the first place. It was just one of those things. He'd have to either move or cancel the reservation, but that didn't matter to him in the slightest. C.C.'s health had to be his priority.

He rubbed her back slowly, "It's alright, love. We can do it again some other time. What matters now is that you rest, and feel better."

There were a few seconds of silence, during which Niles' mind drifted, before C.C. spoke up again.

"You don't have to feel guilty, you know."

"Hm? I'm sorry?" Niles looked down at her, and her eyes slowly travelled up to meet his own.

"It wasn't your fault. You had to go, and you didn't know this would happen," she curled herself up tighter against him. "Ergo, this wasn't your fault."

Once again Niles felt an almost asphyxiating feeling of guilt inside his chest. He knew he had no way of knowing this would happen, but there was a part of him that felt he should have stayed so he could have acted more quickly. If he had been there, maybe she wouldn't be in so much pain now.

He hadn't had to go, he had _chosen_ to go – granted, it he had left to buy her a ring, but he had chosen to go nonetheless – and that was making it hard for him go forgive himself.

The last thing she needed, however, was to worry about how he was feeling. She needed to rest, and that was it. Niles pulled her closer to him and placed a kiss on her forehead.

"I know... but you mustn't worry about me – you need to rest."

She didn't really have much strength to reply, so she simply nodded against his chest and relaxed further. The painkiller was starting to make effect, and the intense pain was now a bit more bearable.

They stayed in silence for what felt like hours – come to think of it, they might have been hours, but they couldn't really tell – and C.C. began to feel her eyes growing heavy. She had almost drifted into a peaceful sleep when she noticed a little bag sitting on top of her vanity. That hadn't been there before...

What could it be?

Right then she couldn't (and didn't want to) find out from what store that bag was from; right then she just needed to sleep. She'd simply ask Niles when she was feeling a bit better. Heaving a sigh, the producer snuggled closer to him and closed her eyes.

Niles could only gaze down at her as he brushed his hand up and down her spine, something he knew soothed her. He loved being able to hold her, to be the one to whom she recurred to when she was in pain. He simply wanted to protect her, to make her happy...

He so wanted her to be happy...

He wanted to make her as happy as she made him.

"I just want you to be my wife," he whispered to his sleeping girlfriend.

"What did you just say?!" a weak, sleepy voice replied.

Well... _almost_ sleeping girlfriend.

Niles' eyes widened and he quickly looked down to see C.C. looking back up at him, confused.

Had...had he said that last part _out loud_? He'd only meant to think it!

C.C. shifted in his arms, and he realised she was trying to sit up. The medication must have kicked in. If he hadn't been so startled by his own words slipping out, he would have insisted that she stop and try to rest, but his mind was either thinking everything at once, or not thinking anything at all, because he let her do it.

C.C. looked weary, but not concerned about it. She was too busy focusing on what he had just confessed.

"Did...did you just say that you want me to be your _wife_?"

She didn't sound angry, or upset. Yet he still couldn't bring up the courage to just answer her. He couldn't even look at her directly.

C.C. gently glanced up towards where the bag still was. It was small, as if it only held one item of about handheld size, with an emblem on it that she couldn't quite see but appeared to be ornate.

The kind of bag that could only come from a jewellery store.

She turned back to him, "...Niles, where did that bag over there come from?"

Niles attempted to speak again, but to no avail. He was frozen – how could he be so stupid?! How could he leave the bag right where she could easily see it?!

And most of all, how had he allowed an accidental _proposal_ – because, for better or for worse, that's what it was – slip?!

"I... I... well..." Niles muttered, not quite knowing what to say.

C.C., figuring Niles was too flustered to give a coherent answer to her question, scrambled over for her nightgown, put it on and – before Niles could stop her – she got out of bed and shuffled towards the vanity. As she neared it, C.C. distinguished the emblem of Tiffany & Co. She reached out for the bag and took the little box from its insides. It obviously contained a ring.

"Niles... is this an engagement ring?" she asked again, going back to his side.

The butler finally dared to look up at her, his eyes giving away just how nervous he was. He took the little box from C.C.'s hand and nodded. There was no sense in denying what she had already figured out.

He'd have to be brave and hope that his accidental proposal went well.

He had many reasons to be afraid, though. They had been a couple for only a few months, which could mean C.C. turning him down because it was too soon to take such a big step or, most importantly, because she was still sick.

Probably she wanted to focus on getting better and not in planning a wedding!

"Niles, please," C.C. cupped his cheek and looked into his eyes. "Did you propose to me?"

"I...well, yes," he breathed out, his voice becoming a little more confident once he had finally said so. "Yes, I guess I did."

He had intended to wait – most likely after she came out of the hospital – but that obviously wasn't an option any more. And whatever her answer was, then so be it.

He swallowed, turned the box around towards her, and opened it, "So...C.C. Babcock, will you marry me?"

The producer didn't reply right away, which unsettled him deeply.

What was she going to say? After such a long silence, surely the answer was no, but why was she taking so long to get to it? He could feel an invisible hand starting to tighten a vice-like grip on his lungs – or was it his heart? Either way, it hurt, and breathing was beginning to become more and more of an effort...

 _Please_ , something in his head begged, _please just say something and stop this...whatever the answer is, just say it..._

Then without warning, C.C. launched herself forwards and planted her lips on his in a loving, passionate kiss.

Niles was so started by her reaction that he almost dropped her ring, but eventually his dazed mind connected with his hand – which closed around her ring so as not to drop it – and then his arms wrapped themselves around her waist.

Their bodies melded together as their lips brushed against each other. The kiss soon became soft, loving, _intimate_... a way to show the other the extent of their love. Although it was a tranquil kiss, it had nearly knocked all the air from their lungs,

For a second they forgot about the proposal, about her illness, about her approaching second stay at the hospital... only them existed. Only the feeling of being in each other's arms existed.

 _And it was heavenly._

Maybe, Niles thought as they finally pulled away, this was what heaven felt like.

Maybe she was his heaven on Earth.

They took some seconds to regain their breath, but they never stopped looking into the eyes of the other. He still had the ring clutched in his hand, and although what had just happened felt like an acceptance of his proposal, he still needed to hear it from her.

"So, Babcock," he said. "Will you marry me or not?"

The producer laughed and snuggled closer against him while offering him her left hand. "Hasn't the kiss made my answer clear?"

They shared a smile. She knew he needed to hear it, too.

"Yes, Niles, I will marry you."

With a grin of utter triumph and a low laugh escaping his lips, Niles slipped the ring shakily onto her outstretched finger, blinking away the tears of joy that threatened to spill down his cheeks. He then took her hands in his, entwining their fingers so that he could feel the hard edge of the ring against his skin.

 _Married_. They were going to be married...

Only a year ago, he would have thought the idea ridiculous – and so would she. But now, it didn't seem like there was really any other possible outcome. They were going to spend the rest of their lives together, and no amount of ill health or drama from the outside world was going to stop them.

He kissed her again, relishing in the feeling of her lips against his own. Soon enough, when they'd planned everything, they'd be doing something very like this again – slipping rings onto fingers and sharing a kiss – only that time, they'd be in front of their friends and loved ones...

It was the most exciting thought he'd ever had.

He pulled her closer to him again, arms around her back, and he rested his head against hers.

"I love you," he whispered.

"And I love you, too," she said, allowing Niles to lower them both onto the mattress. They knew what was about to happen – honestly, the painkillers and the thrill of the moment had vanished her pain – but she had to discuss one more thing with him before they were too lost in their pleasure to think coherently.

"Niles?" she began, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. "You truly and really want to marry me?"

The butler stopped his more than exhaustive exploration of her body and looked into her eyes, a flash of confusion crossing his features due to her odd question. "Of course I want to marry you. I wouldn't have proposed if I didn't."

"But, Niles, you do realise I'm still sick, right? The cancer... it might win the war, things could still get really ugly," she sighed and rested her head on his chest. She knew he loved her, and he had proved to be willing to be there for her, but did he really want to marry a woman who could die? Did he really want to marry her when she was sick? "I could still... die."

Niles frowned, the hand that had been caressing her lower back slowing. It was true – the cancer was still there. It was losing, but it wasn't defeated yet.

But neither were they.

He wasn't going to give in and he wasn't going to let her give in, either. They were doing everything they could to make sure C.C. came out of this healthy again, and even though life in many ways had to ground to a halt in order for that to happen, it could still go on in others. And getting to that next stage of their relationship was a way that he believed life could go on.

He cast his eyes down to her hand, where the ring glittered still, and brought it up in his own, holding it in front of her face.

"This ring is a promise. In sickness and in health. To love and to cherish..." he drifted off before the words "'til death do us part" escaped, because even though it was a possible outcome, he didn't believe it was the most probable one.

C.C. quirked an eyebrow at him, silently asking for more information.

"This ring is proof that nothing in this world could stop me from marrying you," he continued. "Especially not this disease. And I will be there with you for all of it, for always, no matter how bad things may seem...for as long as we both shall live."

C.C. smiled as she momentarily stopped unbuttoning his shirt and took her hand to his cheek. Her fingers lazily brushed against it, relishing in its softness. That was one of the things she loved the most about Niles – he was soft in his entirety; his personality, his skin, his body, his eyes, his heart... all him was softness. That's why they worked so well together; she was anything but soft, and this man had given her what she lacked.

So had she, for that matter. They complemented each other in every sense.

"I know I might sound repetitive, but I love you," she said as she sat up and moved to straddle him. He didn't complain – Niles had learnt that in bed he had to let her be without asking questions. "And – although I'll deny it if someone asks – I'm lucky to have you in my life."

She leaned down and gave him a kiss. His hands had already travelled to her hips and now they were making their way to the edge of her gown and pulling at it.

"Ditto, my love..." he whispered.

Those were the last words uttered for a very long time. But, really, words weren't needed... not right then. They only needed to be together.

Because, when they were together, nothing was wrong in the world.

* * *

C.C. collapsed against Niles' side, panting. She felt him wrap an arm around her waist only moments later, and she could only allow him to pull her close as they both fought to regain their breath after an intense lovemaking session.

She looked up at him after a few moments and found him already gazing down at her – it was amazing just how easily she could read the love he had for her in his baby blues.

"Hello there," he crooned.

"Hello yourself," C.C. snuggled closer to him and heaved a sigh when she tucked her head under his chin.

The producer took a moment to observe her new ring – it was exquisite, to say the least, and part of her wondered how much it had costed. Not that she cared about the price, far from it, but she knew Niles didn't really have much money to spend and there was a part of her that felt both a little guilty and incredibly humbled by him using his savings to buy her a ring.

From her position she could also see the clock on her bedside table – it read 5:30 PM.

And it was then when a lightbulb ignited inside her head. Niles had made the reservation at the restaurant for 7:00 PM! Seeing as he had proposed (however accidental his proposal might have been) and had truly wanted to have a special date with her, she figured she could make the effort and go out on a date anyway.

She was already feeling a lot better, and after taking such an important step in their relationship, a celebration was in order.

"Niles, did you cancel the reservation at the restaurant?"

"Hm?" Niles' eyes wandered back to her, having been lost in the blissful feeling of the afterglow. When what she was saying registered, he shook himself out of it. "Oh, no...no, I didn't. Why?"

C.C. looked for a moment as though she was considering something, "Well, we did just get engaged, and I am feeling a lot better now...I think it's only right that we go out and celebrate, don't you?"

The butler smiled softly, and trailed one hand lazily up and down her back, "If you're feeling up to it, I don't see why not."

C.C. grinned, and reached up to kiss him, "Lucky you didn't cancel that reservation, then."

Niles smirked in return, "Lucky we managed to get side-tracked, more like. If I'd left you alone here in bed to sleep it off with your medication, we would probably have said goodbye to our table."

"Well then, I should be thankful that you do have your uses in the bedroom, and somehow manage to do a _far_ better job than the pills," with a little bit of effort, she sat up. "But that can wait. Right now, at least one of us is going to have to shower before we go anywhere."

"You know what I think about wasting water," he pulled her down again and trailed kisses along her neck. "Stay in bed for a few more minutes and we'll then shower together."

C.C. laughed as she disentangled herself from him once again. "If we do that, then I'm afraid we might not make it to the restaurant on time," she grazed his chest with her nails. "The temptation would be too hard to resist."

Niles pulled a face, but he ended up allowing her to leave the bed. She had more or less of a point there – last time they had taken a bath together they had been inside the bathroom for two hours and a half.

But, he thought as C.C. strode to the bathroom, he could at least delight in the sight of her body – she was truly gorgeous.

Just before she got out of sight, she turned around and spoke again, "Let me tell you what – to keep you entertained while I shower, call the Sheffields and my parents and tell them about our engagement. Invite them for dinner tomorrow, too. Okay?"

"As you wish, boss," Niles winked at her and finally C.C. disappeared inside the bathroom. When he was left alone Niles couldn't help the self-satisfied smirk that soon made its way across his face; he hadn't meant to propose, by any means, but even if things hadn't gone according to plan, there had been a happy outcome. C.C. would be his wife, and right then he felt like the luckiest man on Earth.

He took his time to scrambled for the phone – he was far too comfortable lying on their bed, tangled in the sheets that smelled of their lovemaking. As a matter of fact, the combination of inhaling the heavenly smell that emanated from the sheets plus the sound of the shower running, had almost lulled into a peaceful slumber, but he eventually forced himself to grab the phone – Niles decided to call the Babcocks first, he knew it might be harder to break the news to her parents but he preferred to get it over and done with.

He dialled B.B.'s number and waited as the tone buzzed.

Imagine his surprise when none other than Stewart Babcock was the one to answer the phone.

"Hello?" came the voice of the older man.

Niles' eyebrow quirked so hard he could have sworn it had permanently attached itself to somewhere in the middle of his forehead.

What was C.C.'s father doing at his ex-wife's house?

"Mr Babcock?"

"Niles!" the man down the other end of the phone clearly wasn't expecting a call of any kind, especially not one from the butler. "What-uh...such a surprise! Is everything okay? How is C.C.?"

"C.C. is absolutely fine," Niles replied, feeling suspiciously like he had just interrupted something. But Stewart had moved the conversation on so quickly there wasn't going to be an opportunity to go back to it, and there was probably a perfectly reasonable explanation for him to be there. "More than fine, actually...we, uh...we just got engaged."

"Really?" there was shock, but also delight, in Stewart's voice. "That's wonderful news, Niles! Congratulations!"

"Thank you," Niles sat up more comfortably, resting his back against the pillows. "We decided to let both you and Mrs Babcock know as soon as possible, and we were wondering if you were available for dinner tomorrow night? And, for the sake of killing two birds with one stone, would it at all be possible for you to tell B.B. the news and invite her along tomorrow?"

It may have seemed a bit like Niles was trying to get out of breaking the news to his future mother-in-law, but seeing as Stewart was already there, it made sense to do things that way. Besides, he might be able to break it more gently, whereas Niles would most likely only end up allowing the conversation to dissolve into name-calling, which wouldn't set a good precedent for any future family occasion.

None of this answered why Stewart was there, though...

"Of course, my dear boy," Stewart said. There was a hint of nervousness in his voice, that much Niles could tell. What was going on between those two? "I'll tell her, don't worry. At what time should we be there?"

"Uh... at 7 o' clock. Does that sound alright?"

He just couldn't wait to talk about this with C.C.. Surely the producer would offer a coherent reason for why her father was at B.B.'s house.

As if on cue, the producer walked back into the room for a clean towel – Niles had taken the last one when he had carried her from the bath to the bed. She soon noticed the look of consternation on his face and perched on the side of the bed. He could tell she was curious to know what had caused him to look so surprised...

He doubted he could explain it, though.

He must have been silent for far too long because Stewart calling his name eventually brought his attention back to the conversation he was having.

"Niles? Are you there?"

"Oh, y-yes, sir..." he stammered. "I was just handing C.C. a clean towel for her to take a shower before we go out for dinner. What did you say?"

"You are taking her out for dinner? I knew you were a keeper! I hope you two have a great time."

Niles could hear the smile in his voice.

"Thank you, sir. So we'll expect you tomorrow at 7 o' clock, correct?" Niles asked.

"Exactly," Stewart said. There was a voice – a woman's voice – in the background that said something intelligible for Niles and a short silence soon followed. Eventually, Stewart spoke again. "Is there anything else you need to tell us? Because my wife, uh... I mean, my ex-wife and I were a bit occupied."

Occupied? With what? If it had been to do with C.C. and her upcoming hospital stay, one of them would have called the penthouse first. Neither one of them had mentioned any problem with either one of C.C.'s siblings, either, and Noel (being the family gossip) would have called faster than a person could say " _Guess what_?" if something big and important had happened.

Perhaps they were at B.B.'s to discuss something about Stewart's business. It seemed to be of some significance, whatever it was – Niles could hear how urgent the other man sounded. He'd been so flustered he'd accidentally said "wife", too, so he was obviously under some pressure. And besides, he still had to call the Sheffields and tell them the good news, too.

It was probably best to let them get back to it.

"No, no," Niles said. "That's it for now. We'll see you tomorrow."

"Excellent. We'll see you both then," Stewart's voice seemed rushed, and there was a strange noise down the other end of the phone, like fabric rustling. "I've got to go now, Niles – see you tomorrow!"

Before the butler could say another word, the phone went dead, and he blinked at it.

"That was...odd, to say the least," he remarked to C.C., who was busy wrapping the towel around herself.

"What?" she asked, resting her chin in her hand, elbow propped on one leg.

Niles gestured with the phone, "Your father...was at your mother's house."

"W-what?" she said, feeling as though someone had poured a bucket of cold water on her. "And what was he doing there? Did he tell you?"

Niles shook his head, looking just as confused as she was. "No... he said they were occupied – I suppose that they were discussing business."

Niles could almost swear C.C. was suddenly looking a lot paler than before, and she was making an inhuman effort to keep from grimacing.

"C.C., are you alright?" he asked, reaching out for her. She nodded, leaning against him.

"Yeah... Yeah... I guess you are right – they are surely discussing business," in truth, the producer doubted that was the case, but she didn't want to think about what they _were_ probably doing if they _weren't_ discussing business.

She jumped out of bed, wanting to get rid of those (traumatising) thoughts. She had a date to attend to, so she'd better get ready for it. Niles still needed to take a bath and she had yet to choose an outfit, so discussing this would only delay them.

And that was the last thing she wanted.

"You know what, Niles? Go take a shower and I'll call the Sheffields, it will be quicker, okay?" the producer said, walking into her closet.

Niles was quick to realise she didn't want to discuss whatever it was that was going on between her parents and neither did he, for that matter...

"Alright, love," he said as he took another clean towel from a drawer and walked into the bathroom – it was still warm and smelled of her.

Meanwhile, C.C. chose a really nice Chanel suit with a matching bandana, put them on and went back into their bedroom. She was trying hard not to think about her parents anymore, and she supposed calling the mansion would suffice to push that subject to the back of her mind.

She took the phone and dialled the mansion's number – it didn't take long for someone to answer. Luckily for her it was Maxwell.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Maxwell," she seated herself on the bed again and leaned back against the headboard, grabbing the pillow on Niles' side in order to get more comfortable while she talked with her business associate.

"C.C.!" the British producer exclaimed, apparently thrilled to hear from her. It had been some time since they had been able to have a conversation – most of the talking on the phone had been done by Niles recently, in order to allow C.C. to rest. "Is everything alright? How are things at home with you and Niles?"

Luckily his questions weren't too fast-paced. She could only imagine what kind of an inquisition would have been waiting for her if Nanny Fine had picked up the phone. C.C. could hear the brunette's voice in the back somewhere – she was probably eagerly awaiting any news that came her way.

Well, she was certainly about to get some.

"Things are just fine, Maxwell, thank you," she examined the ring on her finger as she spoke, still not quite able to believe how happy looking at it made her. "They're...well, they're more than fine, actually."

"From the sound of your voice, I'm guessing you have good news of some kind?" Maxwell asked curiously.

That was closely followed by the quiet sound of heels clicking across the mansion floor. Nanny Fine's attention had clearly been caught. Well, it would make passing the news onto her easier.

"It's wonderful news," C.C. grinned to herself. "We want to invite you both over tomorrow...so that everyone can celebrate our engagement."

Immediately after those words had left her mouth, C.C. heard a piercing shriek coming from the other end of the line and soon enough Nanny Fine managed to snatch the phone from her husband's hand.

"You two got engaged?!" the former Nanny exclaimed, a few joyful tears making their way down her cheeks. "Oh my Gawd, Miss Babcock! I am so happy for the two of you!"

"Thank you Na-"

"Oy, I have to start planning yer wedding! We need ta design the invitations, look fer wedding venues, get ya a dress and buy yer wedding bands – speaking of rings, what is your engagement ring like? I remember that Maxwell..."

C.C. lowered the phone and groaned. She knew Nanny Fine's enthusiasm was well-intentioned, but it was quite irritating nonetheless. Although she had agreed to marry Niles, she was certain that a big wedding ceremony would have to wait until she was better. She was thinking about offering Niles to get a civic ceremony and then, when her treatment was over, they could start planning their religious wedding.

Maybe they could go to the Marriage Bureau a few days before going back into the hospital or so. She also knew it might seem rushed, but seeing as she was still sick with a life-threatening condition, she didn't exactly have the luxury of time.

It was almost certain that she'd get better, but if the worst happened she wanted to die being able to call Niles her husband.

C.C. took the phone to her ear once again. Fran still hadn't stopped blabbering. "Nanny Fine,"

"... oh, and the flower arrangements! Ya know, I have this cousin..."

"NANNY FINE!" C.C. yelled, successfully cutting the other woman's monologue short. "We aren't gonna have a big wedding now – we want to wait until I am better. However, we did want to invite you to come for dinner tomorrow to celebrate our engagement."

"...Oh," the deflated look the former nanny would be wearing was almost visible to the producer. But she'd had to cut her off quickly before the conversation ended up taking hours. It might have interrupted her flow enough to prevent that happening, but Nanny Fine still had something to say. "Well, of course we'll be there ta help ya celebrate! We wouldn't miss it!"

"Thank you," C.C. rubbed her forehead, relieved that they'd reached the point in the conversation that the producer had been trying to reach for all this time. "The party starts at seven."

"We'll be there," the brunette sounded firmer in her words, and reassuring. She was a good friend, really, and that was something else that C.C. kind of wished it hadn't taken a potentially fatal disease to realise. "Is there anything else you need from us right now?"

C.C. thought for a second, "Uh...oh, let Maxwell know I read through that file he gave me."

"I will – he's just gone back to the office, so I'll go do that now," Nanny Fine replied. "He was probably expecting this to go on for a while!"

The producer laughed uneasily. How close that had almost been to being true...

"Anyway, I'll let you go now – you guys probably have yer own private celebrations planned for tonight," C.C. could hear the suggestion in Nanny Fine's voice. "See ya tomorrow!"

The producer managed to say her goodbyes to the former nanny, and hung up the phone just as Niles re-entered the room, hair wet from the shower and towel wrapped around his middle.

"Everything sorted?" he asked, coming to sit down on the edge of the bed.

"Yep," she replied, handing Niles a clean pair of boxers. "Of course Nanny Fine almost planned the whole ceremony in the space of five minutes, but she got the message to be here at 7 o' clock tomorrow."

Niles chuckled. If there was something Mrs Sheffield adored, were weddings. He had suspected she'd want to be involved in the planning of his and C.C.'s ceremony, but that would have to wait until C.C. was completely cured.

Her health came first and that was certainly something not open for a discussion.

"Was it hard to interrupt her flow?" he asked as he took the offered boxers from C.C.'s hand.

"It took a few tries, but I did it," she smiled at him. It felt almost unreal that this man was going to be her husband...

They had been enemies for over a decade, and now he was the most important person in her life.

It was not the first she thought about it, but life was truly funny.

Suddenly, another thought creeped into her mind, and she couldn't help but smirk.

"What is it that you have in mind?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.

"Oh, it's nothing... I am just imagining what Wilson will say about all of this! I bet they have a bet on this, too."

"Most certainly, love," Niles walked into their closet and looked for one of his suits – he had brought all of his possessions when they had agreed that he'd stay with C.C. while she recovered. "I hope Cameron wins this time – she's lost so much money already!"

"Knowing Wilson, I am sure he'll win again – he was the first one to realise there was _something_ between us," C.C. said, smiling to herself when she remembered her doctor's antics to get them together.

Truth to be told, she was extremely thankful that Wilson had taken the time to get them together; he had played an important role for them to finally become a couple – from waiving visiting hours for Nles, to calling her Mrs Brightmore every chance he got.

And on that note...

"Niles?" C.C. called, walking to her fiancé and wrapping her arms around his middle. "Seeing as we'll have to put the wedding off until I get better – which we know will take quite some time – what do you say if we get a civic ceremony? Maybe we could have it before I go back into the hospital; as I said before, I could still die, so in case that happens, I want to... well... make sure to die as your wife."

Niles tried not to sigh, but when that failed, he tried to make sure he wasn't sighing audibly. Even though the slight slump in his shoulders and the tenderer look on his face when he turned around to face her probably gave it away.

He wanted to tell her that this wasn't going to beat her – that she was going to be fine. They'd have all the time in the world to plan their wedding, and their future together, and that one day they'd be seated in a comfortable living room somewhere, telling stories of their antics to their grandchildren. But he knew she wouldn't be deterred by such talk – she would want all bases covered, and as long as there was still a chance, no matter how slim, C.C. would want something done about it.

And he had no reason to refuse, anyway – he couldn't wait to be married to her! What did it matter if this was a little earlier and slightly less formal than expected? It was a precaution, and they'd still hold a 'proper' wedding for their friends and relatives when C.C. was better, anyway. Only this had the added bonus of him being able to call her his wife before she went back to the hospital...

He'd be able to hold her at night, knowing they were married, and he'd be able to call her "Mrs Brightmore" in the mornings as he made breakfast to take to her, and they could share the news with their friends – he could imagine the look on Dr Wilson's face, knowing that they had gotten married in the meantime...

The more he thought about it, the better it sounded, and he began to smile softly.

"Alright," he wrapped his arms around her. "If that is what you want, then that is what we shall do."

They shared a soft, tender kiss. The situation they were in was hard, he couldn't (and wouldn't) deny that – C.C. being sick was matter for concern that consumed great part of his life, but it had at least brought something positive; in two weeks time, at most, C.C. Babcock would become his wife.

 _His Mrs Brightmore..._

"Thank you," the producer said, pulling away so she could fasten his tie. It was something she had seen wives do, both in real life and on the TV. She liked being able to do so, really... it was a small, simple gesture, but it filled her with a warmth she had grown to love.

"No, thank you."

"For what?" she asked, leaning into him once again.

"For loving me."

* * *

 **AN: Happy New Year, people! We hope you are all enjoying with your families. To welcome 2017, we give you a new chapter! Please, we'd love you to review. It encourages us and makes us incredibly happy!**

 **H &L**


	16. Chapter 16

**_Chapter 16_**

 ** _Multiple Marriages_**

C.C. glanced at the clock. It read 6:45 – only fifteen more minutes and all her guests would arrive! She went back into the dining room and triple checked that everything was ready – the table was set, the aperitifs were already served, she could smell the delicious meal Niles was cooking from where she stood...

At first sight it seemed everything was in order, but she sensed something was missing...

What could it be?

"It's music, Babcock," Niles said as he came into the room, carrying a bottle of wine with him. "That's what missing."

C.C. quirked an eyebrow – how did he know? It sometimes impressed her just how well the man understood her. She went to the stereo and turned it on, allowing Sinatra's " _Time After Time_ " to fill the room.

It didn't take long for her to feel Niles slipping an arm around her waist and taking her other hand in his. They had danced so many times already that this had become almost natural to them.

She gave a throaty chuckle, placed her other hand over his shoulder so that it touched his back, and together they began to sway to the music. The guests would be arriving any minute, but they had time for one song. Even if they didn't, the guests would've had to just wait. Nothing mattered in the world outside the space they slowly moved in, eyes locked and hands entwined.

Niles couldn't help but picture them doing so after their 'formal' wedding. When all of this was over, and all they had left to do was build their family and grow old together.

He'd be counting down the days until that was possible, but he wasn't going to let it stop him from enjoying the dance right then and there. And they would be married – truly, with or without the usual ceremony – soon enough, and they could have their own private celebration then, too. Perhaps that would involve some dancing.

It took him a few seconds to realise that C.C. had said something that he hadn't quite heard.

" _Hm_?" he shook himself out of it. "I'm sorry, love. My mind wandered. What was it you were saying?"

"I said the song's finished," she repeated, giving him a small smile as they continued to sway.

That was when he noticed a distinct lack of Sinatra in the air, replaced by another singer that Niles wasn't paying complete attention to. It didn't matter – what mattered was that they were there, holding each other, and he wasn't ready to let go just yet. His hands slipped to her waist, and remained there.

"Doesn't mean the dance has," he replied.

Once again Niles took her hand in his and they started their intimate dance once again. As usual, C.C. carefully rested her head in the crook of his neck – she loved being close when they danced. So close that the air around her only smelled of his cologne.

This was one of the few things that they had always enjoyed. Dancing together had been a common occurrence even when they were enemies – they remembered that, back then, they had craved to have this intimacy, to dance this close... but it had been an impossibility due to them claiming to be each other's nemesis. It was almost unbelievable how fulfilling being in each other's embrace was.

They had wasted too much time, precious time that had flooded through their fingers, getting lost forever. They had allowed years and seasons to fade in and out, like a soft song, and they had changed and grown with them. They were sick of wasting time, sick of losing... they only wanted to move forward.

 _Together_.

It was just like the song they were currently dancing to said; _fate acted in a curious way, and all that mattered before meant nothing today. All that concerned them, that drenched their thoughts, was the sensation that being together brought._

Right then there were no illness or fear – it was just them and their little world.

The next song soon came up, and Niles couldn't help but grin. The producer was soon smiling, too, and she shifted in his embrace so he could whisper into her ear.

"Those fingers in my hair," he began, feeling C.C. threading her fingers through his sandy locks. "That sly come-hither stare, that strips my conscience bare… it's witchcraft."

"You know it, Hazel – I've got you under my spell."

"And there's nowhere I'd rather be," he murmured, his breath tickling her ear. The temptation was overwhelming, and he planted a soft kiss just beneath her earlobe. He felt her shiver slightly, but then she turned her head more towards him.

"Don't start anything, Butler Boy," she told him. "Guests are coming soon, and we don't have time."

He gave a small growl from the back of his throat, "Spoilsport."

"Hey, you agreed to this dinner," C.C. reminded him as they continued to sway. "We'll entertain them for a few hours, and then we can pick up where we left off. You know as well as I do that we won't be done in fifteen minutes."

They were suddenly jolted back to the rest of the world by the ringing of the doorbell, and immediately pulled apart a little to look over towards the front door.

C.C. glanced between Niles and the door, "Or less, as the case may be."

Niles smirked as he checked his watch, making his way to answer the door. Whomever was on the other side was a few minutes early.

As he opened it, he was surprised by a shrill "Hello!" and an almost death-like grip of a hug from Fran.

Of course she'd want to get there as soon as possible. She wanted all the news about the engagement and the wedding.

C.C., not wanting to be caught in a bone-crushing hug from the nanny, quickly moved to Maxwell and allowed him to give her a quick and gentle hug. It didn't take long for the nanny to focus on her, though – she was the one carrying the ring after all.

"Congratulations, Miss Babcock!" Fran said, attempting to give her a hug – as tight as her baby bump would allow, in any case – before glancing at her engagement ring. "Oh my _Gawd_! Look at that stone!"

The producer smiled and proudly showed off her ring – it truly was beautiful, but the fact that it had been given to her by Niles was what made it special.

"I must admit, Old Man, you chose an exquisite piece of jewellery," Maxwell said, craning forward so he could see the ring.

"Thank you, sir. Please, come on in – we'll move this to the living room, we'll be more comfortable there."

The party soon made their way to the living room, where Niles took care of serving them their drinks and showed them to the aperitifs.

"So, Miss Babcock," Fran spoke with her mouth half-full with a shrimp canapé. "Any plans for the wedding?"

C.C. tried not to roll her eyes at the former nanny. She still wanted the ceremony to be carried out as soon as possible, which was something that simply couldn't be done. She had yet to receive her transplant, spend another three months at the hospital and see if she finally got rid of her cancer.

Basically, her health came first.

Besides, she wanted to look and feel truly radiant the day she got married, which was kind of impossible when she was still so weakened by both her illness and her treatment.

"We are going to have a civic ceremony before I go back into the hospital – I know it might seem rushed, but seeing as I am still sick, we figured there was not time to lose," C.C. said, leaning against the back of the sofa. "We'd appreciate you to act as witnesses, by the way."

Fran's face fell, but before she could question whether or not that meant there was still going to be a larger wedding, Maxwell piped up.

"Of course! We'd be delighted, wouldn't we, darling?" he grinned, giving his wife a one-armed squeeze. "When were you two planning this to happen? Name the time and the date, and we can be there."

"Within the next two weeks," Niles answered. "We'll let you know what day we decide on beforehand."

"Ah, so it's suits on standby, then," their employer nodded in understanding, leaning back more comfortably in his seat. "You know, I think it's nice that you're doing things this way – no messy, big wedding with lots of added expense and extra people that you have to invite but don't necessarily want to see."

Fran glared at him, "You mean like _our_ wedding?"

C.C. didn't look too impressed either, "And the wedding Niles and I are planning to have when I come out of hospital?"

Niles sipped at his wine, "You walked yourself into that one, I must admit, sir."

"We-well, I...uh..." Maxwell stuttered, looking sheepish as he pulled at the collar of his shirt before taking a large sip of his wine and clearing his throat. "So you are planning on having a wedding where everyone is invited as well, then?"

Turning away from her husband, Fran addressed the couple with more enthusiasm as a beaming smile appeared on her face, "And I'll bet it'll be fabulous!"

Niles gave Maxwell the thumbs up for his quick save as the two women began discussing the many details of the upcoming wedding ceremony.

Soon enough, the conversation revolved around wedding dresses and venues, flower arrangements, invitations... everything a grand wedding should have. Much to C.C.'s surprise, she discovered that the former nanny was actually really good at planning weddings – she had worked in a bridal shop, after all – and letting her help now didn't seem like such a bad idea.

"We have to get you a pair of wedding bands _ASAP_ ," Fran said, taking a sip of her refreshment. "If you are gonna get married in two weeks, you'll need to have them for the ceremony."

"Well, we were planning on getting them in a few days time," Niles pipes up. They had decided their wedding bands to be made of red gold, just like her engagement ring, and they wanted to have them engraved, too.

"Oy, can I go with you?" the nanny said cheerfully, almost bouncing in her seat. "I know a store where you could get them at half-"

"Darling, I think it's something only the two of them should do," Maxwell interrupted, noticing the looks on the blonde couple's faces.

"But Ma-"

"I'll get it!" C.C. practically yelled when the sound of the bell echoed through the penthouse.

She loved Fran, but the nanny's unconstrained enthusiasm would surely give her a headache. She and Niles wanted a small, quiet ceremony, and that didn't exactly sound like Fran.

She opened the door, to find her parents stood waiting on the other side. Stewart was genuinely beaming, and even B.B. had a smile on her face, though it looked a little more uncertain. She was probably still in a state of disapproval about her daughter's choice when it came to a husband, but she was going to have to get used to it.

"Hello, Daddy! Hello, Mother," the producer hugged and kissed both of her parents as they came in.

She was a little surprised that both of them had turned up at the same time. If...whatever had been going on between them yesterday was definitely a _Subject That Should Not Be Approached_ , then the producer would have assumed they'd be more cautious the next time. Taking separate cabs, for instance, or at least making sure that they didn't arrive at the same time.

"Hi, Kitten!" Stewart greeted her cheerfully, kissing her cheek and moving inside, starting to remove his coat. "You're looking well."

"Yes, dear," B.B. agreed with a smile, delicately embracing her daughter. "So much better than the last time we saw you!"

Not the best compliment she'd ever received, but it made C.C. happy to think her parents were paying attention to her health to such a degree.

She invited them into the living room so they could greet the others, but her parents exchanged a look and shook their heads. C.C. could almost feel the temperature in the room dropping – she knew the look on her parents' faces, it meant that they had to talk.

From past experiences, she absolutely dreaded having talks with her parents, mostly because they only had them when they needed to share bad news. She couldn't show her reserve, though; it was obviously something important and private, so she'd have to listen to them.

"We need to talk, Kitten," Stewart said. "Can we go somewhere a bit more private?"

The producer nodded. "Sure, let's go to my office," she tried to sound and appear relaxed, but part of her suspected she had failed in that front.

When the three Babcocks were inside the office and C.C. had closed the door, B.B. spoke.

"We have to ask you some questions and give you some news."

C.C. nodded again as she took a seat on her armchair. Her parents mirrored her action and seated themselves on the sofa before her desk. There were a few moments of silence during which no one knew exactly what to say, but eventually it was C.C. the one who broke it with a question.

"What do you say if we start with the questions first and then we move on to your big news, hm?"

Stewart and B.B. agreed, and C.C. gestured for them to ask.

"Well," B.B. started, straightening her back. "You already know I disapprove of this marriage, and I know that this won't stop it from happening," B.B. looked at her daughter, who nodded in agreement with her words. "However, your father and I would like to know if you plan on making him sign a pre-nuptial agreement."

The mere suggestion felt somewhat insulting to C.C.. Going into a marriage like that seemed to have some subtle implication that it wouldn't work out. Surely it was tempting fate, anyway? She wasn't planning on divorcing Niles – she hadn't even married him yet, and they were already talking about what to do in the event of their break-up?

She loved Niles, and she knew he loved her, too. It wasn't going to happen, so what was the point of having something so ridiculous?

Well, B.B. would say it was so that Niles couldn't take any of the Babcock fortune if it did happen. Because of course they wouldn't want a servant running off with any amount of their money. But of course, her mother was also confined to saying only civil things in present company, so she'd probably hide behind her daughter's own welfare to make it seem like that was her reason for such a question.

And the businesswoman in her still lingered; it suggested that her parents might have a point. And if Stewart had agreed with his ex-wife then there must have been a valid reason for it, not just B.B.'s own personal opinions.

But her heart was still winning this particular battle. She wasn't going to make him do it. She knew that even though he'd lived in New York for years, a prenuptial agreement might still be a foreign concept. He'd talked a little about weddings in the UK, and agreements of that kind didn't feature in the conversation, so she could only assume that prenups weren't a part of British marriages.

She'd still mention it, at some point later, and they could discuss what her parents had said, but she wasn't going to make him do anything that they didn't need.

"No," C.C. replied shortly.

"But C.C., I must insist on you-"

"Barbara," Stewart cut her off, a stern look on his face. The use of her first name was enough for C.C. to realise that her father was very much against what B.B. was trying to make her do. "We agreed that, if she said no, we wouldn't discuss this anymore – C.C. is an adult, and what she does with her money does not concern us."

C.C. smiled at her father. She supposed Stewart didn't really care if there was a prenup agreement, but seeing as B.B. did, maybe he had accepted to discuss it with her just to humour the older socialite. Her mother usually wasn't one to accept a no for an answer, but after looking between Stewart and her daughter a couple of times, she heaved a defeated sigh.

"Fine! Fine... but I am still concerned," B.B. said as she folded her arms across her front.

"Concerned about what, Mother? Haven't you already realised he is more than worthy of me? He was there for me during my treatment, donated bone marrow, and has been taking care of me these past weeks – he loves me. The fact that he belongs to another station simply is of no importance to me," C.C. tried to not sound harsh. Her mother had changed her behaviour since she had started visiting her at the hospital, but C.C. still had little tolerance for her prejudiced comments.

"I know he loves you," the older socialite retorted. "I'd simply prefer things to be done our way – your father and I had a prenuptial agreement, and both of our families are rich."

Had C.C. not been so utterly shocked by the sight of B.B. wearing her old engagement ring and wedding band, she would have replied that she wasn't interested in following any type of tradition. She loved Niles, and that was it.

"C.C.? Are you alright Kitten?" Stewart asked, reaching out for his daughter when he noticed her suddenly becoming incredibly pale. As he did so, C.C. noticed there was a wedding band on her father's finger, too.

"...That's an, um...interesting choice of jewellery, from the both of you," she indicated to their hands with her eyes, swallowing, and feeling her hand curl into a fist awkwardly. She suddenly wished Niles was in the room, so that she could hold his hand.

Stewart's own eyes went to his hand, widened momentarily, and he snatched it back, "Oh! Ah, well, you see, the thing is-"

"You got remarried," C.C. finished his sentence, feeling her breath becoming short. She didn't know if it was from excitement or something else, though.

"Don't be so ridiculous, C.C.," B.B. said sternly. "We are Catholic, and remarrying would imply a divorce or an annulment had taken place. So, seeing as there is no divorce in the Catholic faith and we didn't get an annulment, we were never not married; we merely split up and the word "divorce" got banded about a bit because it was easier to explain."

C.C. was stunned for quite a while, but managed to find her voice again.

"...Might I kindly ask what the hell is going on then, because I'm not quite sure I understand," she demanded. What did they mean, they hadn't divorced? They'd spent all that time and effort acting like they had, including trying to win over their children's affection from the other, only for them to have still been married all along? Why? What were they thinking?!

Stewart sat back in his seat, glancing between C.C. and B.B., and began, "Well, breaking up the way we did seemed easier at the time, rather than having to write away to get an annulment. It was clean, and nobody had to know the details. But...seeing you so unwell, Kitten...we both had to come to see you once we found out. And we both enjoyed getting to spend time with you, and… well, we enjoyed spending time together, too. We reconnected. So, we decided to give our marriage another go."

"Don't get your father wrong," B.B. cut in. " We did get a legal separation for economic reasons back then – after all, we were civilly married, too – but religiously speaking we never ceased to be man and wife."

C.C. felt as though someone had just punched her in the stomach. Her parents were back together?! After thirty years of being separated they wanted to try _again_?! She would have never expected this... not in a million years.

In hindsight, she should have realised that, technically, her parents were still married. She had been educated in the Catholic faith, and in it there was no divorce. But she had always supposed that they had gotten an annulment! This truly came as a surprise...

Part of her felt an almost childish excitement for her parents being back together, but another more rational part of her still had her reservations. Back when she was a kid, whenever her parents were in the same room they fought. They simply couldn't agree about anything, so why should they work as a couple now?

"So, let me get this straight," C.C. said, trying to keep her composure. "You are still legally divorced but religiously speaking you are still married?"

"Precisely," said Stewart, reaching out for B.B.'s bejewelled hand. "As we are giving it another go now, we still want to wait a while before we get civilly remarried, but according to our religion your mother is still – and will always be – my wife."

"H-how long have you two been... you know... _together_?" the producer asked, still baffled by the news.

"Well, your father first invited me out for dinner a month after we first visited you at the hospital," B.B. explained, giving Stewart a brief smile. C.C. almost couldn't believe her eyes... "And we officially decided to try again and move back together around two weeks ago."

"You are living together?!" C.C. screamed. Each new revelation was like a slap in her face – it wasn't that the news were bad, but they were... _weird_ … and kind of scary.

Both parents nodded.

"Jesus Christ..." C.C. collapsed against the back of her chair.

"Kitten, this is the reason we wanted to talk to you – you and Niles are both Catholic, so once you marry him, it will be forever, there is no going back," Stewart said as he got to his feet and went to his daughter. He knelt by the side of her chair and took her hand in his. Father and daughter looked at each other in the eye. "Are you sure he is the man who will be your husband until you die?"

C.C. didn't even have to think about it. She already knew the answer. The only thing she didn't know the answer to was how long it would be before she did...well...now wasn't the time to think about that. She had to convince her parents she knew what she was doing.

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life," the producer didn't look away as she answered. She hoped it would be enough to convince at least her father, even if she knew her mother would probably always have some reservations. "Niles and I love each other, and nothing's gonna stop that."

She just about managed to get those words out before there came a loud knock at the door, followed immediately by Niles opening it and rushing inside, the Sheffields hot on his heels.

"We heard screaming, is everything alright in here?" the butler looked worried, and he instantly went to C.C., practically flying across the office to her seat. "Sweetheart, is it the neuropathy?"

C.C. turned to him, giving a vague half-smile. This man cared for her above everything else, and didn't hesitate when it came to wanting to help her. Her scream might not have been one from pain, but he didn't know that (the walls between the office and the living room must have muffled the sound), and he'd immediately reacted to what he thought was hurting her, and he'd come to try and take it away...

She looked into his eyes, saw the worry and the panic for her safety there, and definitely knew she'd made the right decision.

She took his hand in hers, and squeezed it, "No, Niles. Everything's okay. I just had a bit of a shock, that's all."

Niles relaxed somewhat and straightened up, blinking at her, and then at Stewart and B.B., "A shock? From what?"

C.C. glanced at her parents, as though asking for permission to share the news with the rest of the people in the room. After all, the news were big, and she wasn't sure if her parents wanted everyone to know they were giving their marriage another go yet.

"I think I… well, _we_ ," Stewart gestured between B.B. and himself. "Should explain."

"I'd suggest you all to sit down, too," B.B. cut in. "The news could be, in risk of sounding redundant, rather shocking to you."

C.C. could only nod. To say she was shocked felt almost like an understatement. Now that the surprise had worn off a bit, she actually started to feel oddly happy. For years she had seen her parent fight, scream, jump from one failed relationship to the other… them getting back together could be a nice change of pace.

Niles arched an eyebrow. After the strange phone call he'd had with Stewart, he had his suspicions about what these mysterious news could be. But he'd have to wait and see, so he sat himself down next to C.C. while Fran and Max – seeing as there were no more seats in her study – leaned against C.C.'s desk.

A few moments of silence went past before Stewart cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention back to him.

"Well… as it turns out, Barbara and I… uh… well…"

"We are back together," B.B. interjected, tired of batting around the bush. "Before any of you ask, no, we haven't gotten remarried. Civilly speaking, we are still divorced and we want to wait a while before getting civilly remarried, but religiously speaking we never stopped being married – we are Catholic, and there is no divorce for the Catholic Church."

It wasn't even a split second before Fran forgot about leaning against the desk and clapped her hands over her mouth to prevent herself from squealing in delight. Clearly, the prospect of more than one wedding going on in the vicinity was proving to be more than a little exciting. C.C. considered the bright side in this case – it might mean that she'd be let off the hook for all the wedding talk that evening, and maybe for a while after, too.

The producer was also thankful that the former nanny had basically chosen the route of silencing herself right then. She didn't think she'd be able to deal with any more loud declarations of surprise for a while, no matter who they came from.

Lucky then that Maxwell seemed to be speechless, too. The British producer was busy with a facial expression that anyone there who knew him could recognise as an attempt at forming words, even if none were presenting themselves.

Eventually, something managed to come out, "Well, tha-that's absolutely marvellous! Congratulations to the pair of you!"

"Thank you, Maxwell," Stewart's smile widened, his confidence growing as nothing seemed to be going wrong, even when he reached out and gripped B.B.'s hand. "We are both very happy."

"You must be ecstatic – you know, seein' as you just found out yer daughter is gettin' married, and then you guys decided to get remarried!" Fran had suddenly found her voice again. "So many weddings in one family! Oy, my mother would flip!"

"It is certainly a joy," B.B. replied, looking between Stewart and her child. "Well, but we aren't going to get civilly remarried for the time being – we'll give it some time, see how it goes and then... well, then we'll see what we want to do."

C.C. could only agree. Knowing her parents it was better that they took some time before getting civilly remarried. If they rushed things and their second attempt flopped, then they'd have to go through a second divorce and that was something neither of them wanted.

It was nice to see her parents so _... happy_? This was probably the first time in her life she saw her mother smile so brightly or her father look so content. Maybe it was a nice change for everyone... maybe her illness had, paradoxically enough, brought some happiness too.

It had made her reconnect with her family, it had made her parents fall in love again, it had allowed her to find her future husband...

Not to get her wrong, she still wished she'd never been sick to start with, but it was nice to see that, even in the worst of situations, there had been some happiness.

And speaking of happiness and her future husband, the man was staring at the older couple in bewilderment, as though he'd just realised something. His expression was rather funny, if she was being honest – it was a mixture of surprise and horror.

And, indeed, Niles had realised something – now he understood exactly what he had " _interrupted_ " yesterday, when Stewart answered the phone.

"Niles, are you feeling alright?" she gave his arm a light tap with her fingers, and the butler started.

"Hm? Oh!" his head snapped to face her. "Ye-yes, I'm perfectly fine, love..."

It was a lie, but what else could he say? It wasn't like he could just openly admit that he'd been thinking over in his head how yesterday he must have interrupted Stewart and B.B.-

"Are you sure?" C.C.'s question interrupted his thought, luckily. He'd been dangerously close to thinking about it too deeply again. "You're looking a little pale."

"He's probably just hungry but too polite to say so," Fran joined in, waving a hand in a teasing manner.

C.C.'s eyes darted between her fiancée and her parents. Seeing the way he was behaving when looking at them, and remembering the phone conversation yesterday, as well as what she had realised at the end of it, the producer suddenly put together exactly what was going on in the butler's head.

And it had _nothing_ to do with food.

Not that she'd mention it aloud.

A small smirk crept onto her face, and she stood up, grabbing at Niles' arm, "Probably. But there's plenty waiting for us in the other room, so perhaps we should all go back in, now?"

There was a collective exclamation of agreement and most of the party slowly made their way to the living room. Only Niles and C.C. remained behind – the butler needed a moment to regain his composure, which he almost lost again when he caught Stewart placing a kiss on B.B.'s neck out of the corner of his eye.

The older socialite shivered, and playfully slapped Stewart's arm, something which reminded him a lot of C.C. and himself.

"You'll get used to it," his fiancée's voice interrupted his thoughts. "At least that's what I hope."

Niles felt a small smile making his way across his face. "As long as they get used to us, too."

He wrapped his arms around her and trailed kisses down her throat.

"Not that I care if they don't," she added, threading her fingers through his hair.

"You read my mind, Babcock. Now let's go before your mother kills Fran, who is surely bombarding her with questions concerning her we-"

They suddenly heard a loud crash coming from the living room, followed by a loud scream from Nanny Fine and a furious _"Barbara!"_ from Stewart.

The blonde couple shared a smile.

"Too late," she said, entwining their hands together as they began their way back to the living room.

* * *

"What are you doing?" Niles asked, coming into her office later that evening.

His fiancée was sat in her desk, eyes scanning a sheet of paper. There were a number of different documents scattered around her, too.

"Oh, just checking I have everything for our wedding – you know, our petition for a marriage licence, my ID – basically all the different documents we need."

He smiled – actually, he beamed. It seemed almost unbelievable that C.C. Babcock was going to be his wife in only two weeks.

Life was truly good.

He walked to her and placed a kiss on her cheek before sitting on the edge of her desk. This caused the producer to giggle, and he arched a confused eyebrow at her.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing... Nanny Niles," she burst out laughing. "It seems you've learnt Nanny Fine's ways!"

"Well, I made a rich socialite fall in love with me, too," he leaned down and pecked her lips.

"The only difference is that it took us nearly twenty years and you don't look good in a mini skirt."

"I disagree," Niles said, crossing his legs. "According to Fran I have great legs!"

C.C. rolled her eyes at him and they soon fell into a comfortable silence. He liked watching her work, and he knew she preferred a silent environment to work in. It didn't take long for his mind to drift back to their wedding – C.C. wanted to invite her family and some friends while he had to call his parents to give them the good news.

"Niles?" her voice brought him out of his musings. "Could you hand me the phone? I need to call my mother's brother to invite him to the wedding – I called him a while ago to tell him about our engagement, but he's a busy man, and would surely appreciate to be informed of our wedding date with anticipation."

"Your mother has a brother? I thought she was an only child," he said, reaching over for the phone.

C.C. gave him a disbelieving look. "Are you kidding? The Rockefellers are a big family! I have lots of aunts and uncles."

Niles froze in the middle of reaching for the phone.

Had she just said _Rockefeller_? She'd just said Rockefeller. Could she really mean the same Rockefeller family as the one he was thinking of?

What was he thinking? _Of course_ she did. The Babcocks wouldn't accept any less, would they?

"R-Rockefeller...?" he managed to stutter out. "Your mother's family...a-are the Rockefellers?"

C.C. blinked at him, not sensing anything wrong with what she'd just told him, "Yeah, why?"

Having had it confirmed, Niles suddenly found he couldn't quite breathe. His fiancée, the woman who would be his wife in two weeks, was even more rich and powerful than he had previously thought. The Babcocks were an influential family in their own right, but the Rockefellers...that was a whole other level!

No wonder B.B. was so against the idea of him being anywhere near her daughter. He had no wealth, no status, no influence over anyone other than what he could use his natural wits to get, and more often than not, he had to crawl for it. C.C.'s parents had probably – no, scratch that, _definitely_ – imagined that she'd marry a businessman, maybe someone from the Forbes Fortune 500, or even a senator. A man with connections, who could keep her in the life to which she was accustomed.

Not a butler, who lived out of a room in someone else's house, cooked someone else's meals, and kept other people in the life to which they were accustomed in completely the wrong way to what B.B. and Stewart would have considered acceptable for their daughter.

He was a no one, and she... she was part of one of the most – if not the most –powerful families in the United States of America.

She was part of the family who had built the Rockefeller centre and whose members were important members of society.

Basically, C.C. Babcock-Rockefeller was absolutely out of his league.

He could almost see himself in one of the family gatherings, standing between her relatives – who were just as rich and powerful as she was – while they talked about business and their millionaire investments while he...

Well, while he felt like he belonged with the servants and not with his future in-laws.

Now that he knew this information the fact that she had chosen him over anyone else was a wonder – what could he give her? How could he compete with the many rich men who'd surely want to marry her?

Why had she chosen him?

It was almost anguishing. Yesterday he knew perfectly clear why she loved him, but now he couldn't help but to feel he wasn't worthy of her; that she deserved a man who could give her the life she deserved – a life of power, riches and prestige.

He was suddenly brought back to reality by her snapping her fingers and calling his name.

"Earth to Niles! What happened to you? You were completely gone for some seconds!" she said, smiling softly while she took the phone from his hand.

"I... uh... my mind wandered."

"Ah, a common occurrence once you reach an advanced age," she jested, dialling in her uncle's number on the phone. "I can't wait to introduce you to my uncle Jay! He is-"

"Jay Rockefeller?!" he almost yelled. "The senator of West Virginia?"

"Well, do you know any other Jay Rockefeller?"

 _Of course her uncle was a senator..._

"By the way, he said we could have our wedding celebration – the formal one – at the family estate" C.C. added, "The John D. Rockefeller state. What do you think? It's a beautiful place, I've spent entire summers there! It covers an area of 3400 acres!"

The butler suddenly felt like he might have another heart attack. There was absolutely _nothing_ he could offer this woman, and yet here she was, talking about their wedding as though nothing was wrong! Their formal wedding...at the estate of one of the most powerful families in the world...the wedding of one of the members of one of the most powerful families in the world...

He honestly felt quite weak.

He lifted himself from the desk, using his hands to support himself against surface, and he steadily made his way towards the door.

"Niles, where are you going?" C.C. questioned, confused. Weren't they discussing her family? And she'd just asked him a question! They would need to plan soon enough, and Uncle Jay would prefer an answer sooner rather than later. She'd already told him all about Niles, and her older relative liked the sound of him already. She couldn't wait to introduce the two.

And she would tell him all that, if he would turn around and explain where he was going.

"I...I think I need to lie down, love," he said, leaning with one hand in the doorway. "Learning some of your family history has been...overwhelming, to say the least."

C.C. frowned. Her family history? What did he mean by-

And it suddenly dawned on her – Niles hadn't know she was a Rockefeller from her mother's side. B.B. had changed both her surname and religion when she had married Stewart – she was a Presbyterian Christian before getting married to Stewart, who was Catholic – and the butler had always known her mother as B.B. Babcock, not as B.B. Rockefeller.

He was in shock... and she couldn't blame him. In the space of some minutes he had learnt that she belonged to one of the richest families in the country and, knowing Niles, he was probably feeling rather uncomfortable.

"Okay, let's go lie down together – I can call my uncle from our bedroom," she said, trying to sound nonchalant. It was better to let him lie down – he had gone incredibly pale, and she didn't want to risk her fiancé having a fainting fit.

"No, sweetheart, don't worry I-"

"Niles," she said sternly, getting to her feet and walking towards the door. "I insist."

He gulped. There was no reason for him to say no – at least no reason that he could tell her. He wasn't having second thoughts about the wedding, but part of him now feared she'd realise just how powerful she was and that she didn't want to marry a poor butler.

"Alright then," he replied against his better judgement.

They made their way to their bed in silence, but C.C. kept her left arm wrapped around his middle at all times. It was as though she wanted to comfort him, to make him feel everything would be alright...

He so wished everything would be alright.

Once they were comfortable under the covers, she cuddled against him and, as usual, rested her head on his chest. She also entwined their fingers together.

She knew...

"C.C., I-"

"Don't," she cut him off. "Please, let me speak."

He nodded.

"Thank you. Niles, I know what you are thinking, and no, that's not true. I love you, you will be my husband and we'll grow old together. My uncle knows about you, and he – unlike my mother – is quite thrilled to meet you," she kissed his cheek. "There is nothing to fear, lover."

Niles' eyes lowered to look at her. She didn't sound like she was just trying to reassure him. She sounded completely and utterly sincere.

But how could she be so sure that there was nothing for him to worry about? Was it really possible that her family would be accepting of him, like Stewart and Noel had been, like her Uncle Jay seemed to be if what he'd been told was anything to go by? Was B.B. just an outlier in this, who did not share the feelings of the rest of her family?

"There isn't?" he asked. "Because I hear the things you say about your family and think about how all my life I've been one of the people who'd stand near them and hold a tray full of drinks glasses while they made small talk about million-dollar business deals and discuss which cousin just got elected to Congress."

"Well, soon enough you'll be able to have these conversations with them, too," C.C. said, stroking his fingers. "And you'll run rings around them. I've told them so much about you over the years, they can't wait for you to start. Don't worry about my mother, or whatever anxious thoughts you keep having about not being good enough for me, because it's just not true."

He knew she meant well, but that didn't mean he entirely agreed. He knew that she was from a section of society he wouldn't be able to venture into if they weren't getting married. But they were, and as such he was allowed. Not that being allowed in was the point – it was being worthy enough of her that concerned him.

Being worthy didn't seem to bother C.C. in the slightest, though. She still loved him, just as much as he loved her. If it really meant anything, they wouldn't be together now, like they were.

So maybe he should just put his worries aside; acknowledging that they were there, but not paying attention to them because if they were really a problem, they wouldn't be together like they were.

"Alright," he eventually said, brushing his fingers up and down her spine. It wasn't as protruding as it had been when she had first left the hospital, and he couldn't help but smile. She was getting better, truly better, and it wouldn't be long until this ordeal was over.

They would build their life together, they'd build a family, a home... and that was the only thing that he wanted.

"Then if everything is alright cheer up, Hazel!" she said, nudging him in the side. "We are getting married!"

Her smile was contagious, and soon a big smile of his own made its way across his face. They were getting married... C.C. Babcock would be his wife in just a few days time. She'd be the woman to whom he'd come home every night, and whom he'd be allowed to hold and caress whenever it pleased them.

Part of him felt he was living a version of Heaven on Earth...

"Indeed we are..." he feigned a look of horror. "My God, what have I gotten myself into?! I'm marrying the Ice Queen herself!"

C.C. rolled her eyes. "I am not the Ice Queen – my mother is the Ice Queen. I'm a warm, loving soul in comparison to her."

The butler chuckled. Yes, as much as she'd like to deny it, C.C. Babcock had a soul. A good soul, for that matter. And speaking of good souls, they owed a call to another special soul out there. Wilson, just like C.C., liked to pretend he didn't care about anyone, and that he was a ruthless prick... but they owed him their happiness, and the least they could do was give him a call to tell him about their engagement.

"Speaking of nice souls, we should call Wilson," Niles said.

C.C. gave him an unimpressed look, "And here we were, having a nice evening. What do you want to get him involved for?"

Niles smirked back at her, "You consider him just as much of a friend as I do. He might be infuriating a lot of the time, but none of this would have happened without him."

He felt C.C. deflate a little as she silently agreed with him, and motioned for him to continue.

"Anyway, I thought it would be nice of us to invite him to the wedding," he said. "He's done so much for us, this is the very least we can do."

The producer thought about it for a second, before replying, "I suppose you're right. Alright, then - let's invite him. Heck, let's invite Lisa Cameron, too. The more the merrier."

Niles chuckled, and reached out for the phone. He'd invite the entire world to watch him declare his love to C.C., and to vow to be with her forever.

C.C., meanwhile, had her own thought in mind, and she shot him a mischievous glance.

"Can you imagine," she began, trying to disguise a laugh and failing, "if you called Wilson up, and Lisa answered? Just like you called my mother and Daddy answered? It'd be my turn to bet money that they were-"

"Please, don't tempt fate," Niles replied, holding the phone away from his ear so he could hear her over the dialling tone. "Having that happen to me once was enough, thank you very much."

He took the phone back to his ear and added. "Besides, I am calling to the hospital. Knowing Wilson he is still there – I recall his shifts were almost never ending, and he didn't seem to mind."

The producer shrugged and scooted closer to her fiancé. She wanted to hear Wilson's reaction when he was told that they were going to get married. She was certain the man had a bet going on about when they'd get married.

The tone buzzed for a few seconds and eventually – much to Niles' chagrin – Lisa Cameron answered the phone. C.C. had to do an almost impossible effort not to burst out laughing at Niles' horrified expression.

"Hello, Mr Brightmore!" the nurse said cheerfully. "Is everything alright there?"

"Y-yes we are doing just fine here..." he stuttered, not quite knowing what to think. What was Cameron doing in his office?

"I bet you want to speak to Wilson, right?"

"Indeed, is he available?" the butler asked.

"He should be, any moment from now... we were checking some patients files and he went down the corridor to get some coffee a few moments ago," there was a small pause and Niles could hear a door being opened in the background – Wilson was back in his office. "Ah, here he is! I hope that everything is okay, and I'll see you soon!"

Niles didn't even have time to say goodbye before Wilson took the phone from the nurse's hand. He clearly knew something important had happened – whether it was good or bad remained to be seen.

"For you to be calling at this hours you either got married to Babcock or she is close to dying – which one is it?"

"Neither," Niles was millimetres away from rolling his eyes – the only thing holding him back was how close Wilson had been to guessing his reason for calling. "Though, you are actually quite close with that first guess-"

"Ah!" the butler could almost see the grin that the doctor was no doubt wearing down the other end of the phone. "So someone plucked up the courage and popped the question?"

Niles sighed, "Yes, yes, I did-"

"This is absolutely priceless! This is great, this is actually great," the doctor sounded positively triumphant. "Cameron! Cameron, don't you dare leave; you owe me another fifty bucks! Niles is the witness. Well, not the witness. What's the term for someone who hears something but doesn't see it? You know what? Never mind. Was there something else you wanted to talk to me about, my good man, or was this joyous news the crux of this phone call?"

That became too much, and Niles actually did roll his eyes, much to C.C.'s amusement. The man may have gotten them together, but he still had the ability to frustrate and infuriate in equal measure. And it sounded like he'd taken more money from Lisa, too. The couple both hoped either she had enough to pay up, or Wilson decided to be generous and let her off the hook.

Not that either of them saw _that_ happening.

"Well, yes, for the most part," Niles replied. "We actually called because we are planning on having a civic service in two weeks. There are going to be a few select guests. If you're available, we'd be delighted if you'd come, too."

"Are you kidding?! I wouldn't miss it for the world! It took me over eight months to get you two together, the least I can do is be there when she becomes Mrs Brightmore!" the doctor replied, still sounding utterly triumphant. "At what time is the ceremony?"

"At 11:00 am, sharp. It will be a simple ceremony, and afterwards we plan on hosting a lunch at our penthouse."

Niles smiled to himself. He had just said our penthouse... it was real... in just a few days C.C. Babcock would be his wife and they'd be sharing their lives together.

In a sense, Niles felt somewhat weird – in all the years he had lived in the States, he had never been able to call some place his own, and now this woman was giving him a home. His very own home, which they'd build together. Honestly, he simply couldn't be happier.

"Fantastic! I'll be there. I take Cameron is invited, too. Isn't she?"

Before Niles could reply C.C. took the phone from his hand.

"Of course she is invited! Now have some balls and invite her to go with you, okay? And take her somewhere nice tonight – you know, out on a date," C.C. made a pause and chuckled at something Wilson said before glancing at Niles, a sly smile on her face. "Yes, we will have our private celebration very soon, don't worry. Alright, see you then."

The producer hung the phone and went back to Niles' side, a content smile on her face. They had a lot to do before the wedding – buy the wedding bands and a simple dress for her, organise the lunch, get a marriage licence from the marriage bureau, etcetera – but right then she was happy to just be by his side, hidden in his embrace.

There was no other place she'd rather be.

* * *

 **AN: Hello! Thank you for all the great reviews! And Kelly, don't worry! We really appreciate and look forward to your feedback ;) Anyway, I (L) will be travelling to the USA (I'm visiting NYC and Washington!) tomorrow, so I won't be able to update the story for a few days - H simply can't do it in my place because we use my account to publish the story! I won't take long; hopefully, I'll have access to a computer by this Friday.**

 **Hence us giving you a double update! We hope you enjoy the story and, as per usual, we anxiously await for your reviews!**

 **H &L**


	17. Chapter 17

**_Chapter 17_**

 ** _I do_**

Niles was pacing up and down. He had been for the past fifteen minutes, too. Was a person's heart supposed to beat so fast on the day of their wedding? He guessed the answer was yes – it was meant to be exciting, and a little nerve-wracking, in its way. It was just the adrenaline.

He couldn't wait to go in, and actually be able to say the words that would make C.C. his wife.

The bride-to-be had actually been dragged off by the self-proclaimed maid of honour (aka Fran) about ten minutes before, in order to get her dress on and check her hair and makeup. The former nanny had stated that even though this wedding was really just a formality, that didn't mean the bride shouldn't be dressed properly for it. C.C. hadn't had time to complain before she'd been ushered away, either.

Well, for a moment she'd be distracted from her future – ten minutes away, anyway – husband's pacing, at least. And that was the least of the things that he was grateful for. The Sheffields had gotten together to help out. The past two weeks had been hectic for both couples due to the wedding preparations – Niles and C.C. had had to pick up their licence and pick out their bands, Fran and Sylvia had taken C.C. out to pick out a dress and Maxwell had even helped Niles to pick up a pre-catered platter of hors d'oeuvres to be taken back to the penthouse for afterwards the ceremony. The producer had made something of an odd sight, carrying plates of food as though he were a waiter, but had been perfectly happy to help his friend out on his big day, and had even gifted a rather nice bottle of champagne for a toast after the lunch.

He was trying to do his best to help Niles right then, too, as he approached and gingerly placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You feeling alright, Old Man?"

The butler nodded. "Yeah, it's just the adrenaline, you know?"

The producer chuckled. Of course he knew... he had gotten married twice, after all. It was rather endearing to see his friend, the one who had quit his dream to become a barrister and came to the United States with him all those many years ago, feeling so nervous as he awaited for his bride.

Especially when that bride happened to be the same woman that he had claimed to despise for almost fifteen years.

Life was truly strange... Maxwell had once thought he'd never find love again, and yet here he was, married and with two new children on the way. He had once thought his butler and his associate would never get along, and yet they were about to get married.

Life was really, _really_ strange...

"I do, Old Man. But don't worry, it will be alright," Maxwell said, offering him a small smile before glancing at the door that led to the little room adjacent to the West Chapel. They had been really kind to let C.C. her changed there – usually couples came already dressed and ready for the ceremony – and they only needed to await until Fran and C.C. came out.

Maxwell glanced at his wristwatch. "When are the rest of the guests coming?"

"Well, they are already here. They are outside – only the bride, the groom and their witnesses are allowed in," the butler explained.

It truly was impressive the amount of people that had come to their wedding. Apart from Cameron, Wilson, B.B. and Stewart, the Sheffields and the Fines, many of the most notable members of the Rockefeller family were there.

So much so that the hired security had enclosed a perimeter!

"Ah. I was wondering about the rather large crowd outside," Maxwell glanced back over his shoulder. "As well as the rather large gentleman who accosted me when I went to the bathrooms, and demanded to know who I was. Lucky Stewart came along and recognised me, otherwise I'm almost completely certain I would have been kicked out!"

If Niles hadn't been so worked up about the ceremony, he would have found the idea hilarious and subtly encouraged Maxwell to tell him the whole story with all the details filled in. But, as it was, he had more important things to focus on right then. Namely, the fact that he was getting married in less than five minutes and his bride was still behind a closed door just a little way away from him at that moment. He hoped they wouldn't be much longer. The Justice of the Peace was supposed to come out and meet them just before, and the previous wedding party had left quite a while ago.

The couple had looked thrilled beyond words, too. Completely and utterly happy and in love. It was something of a joy to see, really. It made Niles realise how close he was to being the same as that proud groom, who'd practically run from the building, beaming and blushing bride's arm tucked through his, eager to start his new life as a married man.

Of course, there wouldn't be that much rushing around. C.C. may have been better, but she wasn't entirely ready for leaving the building so quickly. Also all the people and bodyguards waiting for them outside would make it rather difficult. An entirely new family for him to meet...

He checked his watch. It was almost time. Fran was most likely insisting on using all the time available before revealing C.C.. She herself was probably complaining about all the fussing, considering this was only a civic wedding, and not the formal ceremony that they'd agreed on after everything had settled down.

Suddenly, the little door was opened by a beaming Fran, who basically ran to Maxwell and Niles. The woman had bought herself a brand new dress for the ceremony, too, and it flattered her very pregnant figure. It had a soft baby-pink colour, it was made of silk and had a heart shaped neckline. Maxwell was using one of his best Armani suits, and he had even gifted Niles a new suit for him to use during his wedding. In truth, their friends were just as excited as they were – if not more – for their nuptials.

Especially after having such a hard year...

But it was no time to think about it – he was about to get married to the love of his life, and he didn't care about anything else.

"She is ready!" the brunette announced, lacing his arm with Maxwell's.

Niles' felt his heartbeat increase. He was about to see his bride! The woman with whom he was going to share the rest of his life...

Part of him felt like a teenager again.

Just then the Justice of the Peace opened the doors of the chapel and called their names – Mr Niles Brightmore and Miss Chastity-Claire Babcock. It left him almost breathless to know they'd leave the building being Mr and Mrs Brightmore.

"Come out, Miss Babcock!" Fran said in a sing song. "Someone is anxious ta see ya!"

And she did...

The tall producer looked beautiful – no, scratch that, she looked more than beautiful, she looked gorgeous – in a knee-length, cream-coloured, satin dress. It favoured her thin frame for it was tightened to the waist (which enhanced her hourglass figure) and had a bateau neckline. The top also had a delicate lace cover, and the back was open.

She had made an exception for the day and was using a wig, but if he didn't know she was actually bald, he wouldn't have been able to tell it wasn't her natural hair.

She was truly the most beautiful sight Niles had ever seen.

He barely even felt the ground as he floated to her side, and clutched at her hands. He couldn't help but use the closeness to better examine how she looked. If a person didn't know she was ill, they wouldn't have noticed – the producer was practically glowing with a newfound excitement and cheer.

It made his heart swell with pride to know that their wedding day was the cause.

"Ready to actually be Mrs Brightmore?" he asked, his voice shaking with the anticipation of it all.

"More than I ever thought I'd be," she answered, grinning all over her face. She released one of his hands to tuck one strand of fake hair behind her ear, and she pulled a face. "I'd better look good in the photos, otherwise this roadkill I'm wearing on my head is going to be a massive waste of time. I've gotten so used to not having anything up there..."

"You're going to be the best looking woman to pass through this building today. On any day," Niles murmured, and tugged at her hand. "Come on; they're waiting for us."

C.C. considered for a second, rolled her eyes, and then smirked, "Oh, alright. No more hanging around, I guess."

"Not at all," he grinned in return as they made their way into the chapel, greeting the Justice of the Peace as they went in, with the Sheffields following behind.

They were moments away of becoming man and wife. Moments away of officially agreeing to share their lives together...

Well, in a sense, they had been sharing their lives for years now. They were just making it official!

They went into the chapel and soon the Justice of the Peace began waxing lyrical about the wonders of love and marriage, but Niles and C.C. barely heard him – they were too caught up in holding each other and exchanging loving glances and caresses. It seemed almost surreal that the day of their wedding was finally there, and they were more than determined to enjoy it.

They were only brought out of their own little world when the Justice of the Peace asked Maxwell and Fran to give the bride and the groom their wedding bands; the moment of saying their vows and putting on their rings had finally come.

They hadn't truly worried about preparing extensive and heartfelt vows – they would have time for that on their religious ceremony – they just proclaimed what they already knew; that they loved each other and that they would be there for the other through thick and thin.

"Do you, Niles Brightmore, take Chastity-Claire Babcock as your lawfully wedded wife?" the Justice of the Peace asked, glancing at Niles.

"I do," the butler replied without hesitation and slid the gold wedding band down her long ring finger.

"And do you, Chastity-Claire Babcock, take Niles Brightmore as your lawfully wedded husband?"

The producer nodded, a fee tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. "I do."

"Then, by the power invested on me by the State of New York, I declare you husband and wife."

Mere seconds after those words had been said, Niles pulled a beaming C.C. to him and stamped his lips against hers in a passionate kiss. Her arms were soon comfortably wrapped around his neck, and his own hands travelled to her waist as their mouths melted into each other.

They couldn't hear the applause coming from the Sheffields, or even the loud wolf-whistle from Fran that Maxwell would later say (and be confirmed by the others waiting outside the door) could be heard by most people in the building. They couldn't hear the doors to the room being opened, to the cheers of their other guests. They couldn't even hear the Justice of the Peace requesting that they vacate the space for the next couple.

They only needed to hear each other. That was all that mattered.

That's why it was a shock when they were ushered along by the Sheffields the minute they pulled away for air. Their brunette friends thanked the Justice of the peace and reminded the blondes to do so, too, before exiting.

They all filed out of the room, the new couple going first to be greeted by the crowd that made up their guests, with the Sheffields following close behind. Together, the party made their way outside, and the newlyweds were immediately enveloped in cloud of colourful confetti.

"I never imagined your family as being the confetti type, Babcock," Niles grinned. "Rice, maybe, for its tradition. But something _fun_ , like confetti? Never."

"They'll throw rice at the formal ceremony," she laughed in reply. "For something like this, confetti is fine. And we know how to have fun!"

"I'd be inclined to agree," a third voice, which happened to belong to Noel, said. "And we have a love for surprises, too."

The couple turned to find a grinning Noel staring at them. He had come with his partner, Edward, and the two of them congratulated the newlyweds with hugs. Neither C.C. nor Niles understood what Noel meant when he mentioned the Rockefeller's love for surprised, but both of them had a feeling it wouldn't be long until they found out.

"Thanks for coming in such short notice, Noel," C.C. said, smiling at his brother. "It means a lot."

"It's the least I could do, sister," the professor waved a dismissive hand at C.C.. "After all, this is what I wanted all along – you two to be together. And now it's time to celebrate your nuptials!"

Before either of them realised what was happening, Niles and C.C. were quickly guided to an awaiting limo by Noel, Edward and C.C.'s uncle – the latter of whom had spotted his favourite niece only moments before and had gone to congratulate the newlyweds. The two Brightmores didn't understand – why was there a limo waiting for them? They needed to take a cab back home! Their guests would arrive to the penthouse and there would be no one to receive them!

"Noel, we should ge-"

"Sh, let us surprise you, sister," Noel cut C.C. off, opening the door for her and Niles to step into the limo. "You didn't think we were going to let you get married without a proper celebration, now did you?"

Niles and C.C. exchanged a confused look. Now what was it that Noel had in mind? And why were all her relatives dressed so elegantly? They had told them it was just a small ceremony!

 _Unless..._

"Where are we going, Noel?" the blonde asked, realising the limo was going in the opposite direction of her penthouse.

The professor smirked and draped an arm around his sister's shoulders. "You sorted it out quicker than I thought you would!" he laughed, "To the Waldorf Astoria, of course! Mother and Father rented the ballroom to celebrate your marriage to Niles!"

The Waldorf Astoria?! But what about the other guests, and all the food and wine that was waiting back at the penthouse? They'd be wondering where their hosts had got to, and if they stayed too late, they'd become concerned. The Sheffields would suggest that perhaps the couple had just slipped off to get a little time to themselves before having to be surrounded by people, which Wilson would then no doubt turn about in some sordid way, and they wouldn't even be around to explain what had happened to them...

"What?" C.C. asked. "Why?!"

Noel rolled his eyes, "Why do you think? It's not every day their little girl gets married – they want it to be special for you!"

"I understand that, but we've got everything all set up back at the penthouse!" C.C. gestured back in the direction the limo had come.

Noel smirked at her, "That's what you think."

The couple stared at him, confused.

"Would you care to explain that last statement?" Niles asked, feeling a little annoyed and yet also somehow amused by his brother-in-law's almost constant meddling.

"After you, dearest brother-in-law, and Maxwell Sheffield left the penthouse, Edward, myself, and a few of the other guests went in," Noel explained. "We took the catering and the champagne out, and took it to the ballroom just before we went to the ceremony. You'll get everything you planned for your reception – just in a slightly larger setting."

C.C. opened her mouth as if to answer something, but there was nothing else she could say, really. It seemed that her family had gone all the way to surprise her, and even if this wasn't their original plan, they might as well enjoy it.

She slumped against Niles' side and allowed her husband to hold her. He looked just as surprised as she was, too.

"I imagine that Wilson was one of the " _few other guests_ " involved in this shenanigan, correct?" Niles asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Noel smiled. "He was the one that came up with the idea – Mother and Father wanted to tell you about celebrating the wedding at the Waldorf Astoria, but Wilson thought it would be better to surprise you."

Niles and C.C. shared an unimpressed look; that sounded like Wilson. Honestly, didn't he get tired of meddling?!

"That does sound like him," C.C. said, relaxing against her husband.

"Indeed," Noel agreed, accepting the glass of champagne Edward was giving him. He then poured some more for Niles, C.C. and Uncle Jay. "I propose a toast – for the Brightmores!"

The people inside the limo clinked their glasses together and gulped down the champagne. Edward was careful to give C.C. only a little bit of alcohol, though, for Noel had told him his sister wasn't exactly allowed to imbibe.

The rest of the ride was uneventful, but the bride and the groom were feeling increasingly giddy for the party that was to come. The past year had consisted in trying to get C.C. to bear her treatment, but now it was a day of celebration.

It was the time to celebrate.

But most of all, it was the time to finally be happy.

C.C. looked down at her bejewelled hand – she was wearing both her engagement ring and her wedding band. She was sure she would never get tired of seeing them there...

"We are almost there," Uncle Jay said, bringing C.C. out of her musings.

"And so is the press," the producer muttered bitterly, gesturing at the crowd of reporters huddled before the entrance to the Waldorf Astoria.

Noel frowned, and craned his neck to look out the window.

"Hm. I wonder who let the news slip," he muttered. "I thought we were careful about it. Even the Sheffields don't know they're coming here instead of going to the penthouse – Wilson is bringing them over."

"Even the Sheffields didn't know?" C.C. asked, a little bewildered. If there was a secret going around their social circle, she would have immediately imagined Fran to at least have a vague idea of it.

Her brother shook his head softly, "Nope. We couldn't risk them telling you, and spoiling the surprise."

The married couple shared an understanding look. For as much as they loved their closest friends, no news was safe in their presence. Wilson, on the other hand, could keep a secret like he planned on taking it to his grave.

The limo began to slow – they were approaching the entrance to the hotel. Niles could see the press preparing their cameras, the journalists gearing up to ask their questions...he'd never imagined his wedding day would be like this.

Then again, he'd never imagined a lot of things happening in his life right then would ever happen.

C.C., meanwhile, was busy scanning the crowds. She couldn't see Michelle Prince anywhere, which was something of a shame. The producer wanted the journalist to see how well she was looking now – much more robust and healthy than before, as well as newly married.

It would be the ultimate in revenge; moving on in her life and not letting the journalist's words get to her.

"Well, it seems we'll just have to face them," C.C. concluded, smoothing her dress and checking that her wig was still in place. She had wanted to look her best for her husband, but now she also needed to look good for the press. She wanted the world to see that C.C. Babcock – pardon, C.C. Brightmore hadn't allowed her cancer to steal her life.

The limo finally stopped before the entrance, and a bell boy quickly opened the door for the passengers to step out. The first one to leave the limo was Uncle Jay, who began distracting the press to buy his niece and her new husband a bit of time. Then Noel and Edward left for the hotel and, once again, Niles and C.C. were left alone in a limo.

The last time this had happened C.C. had been a lot weaker and unsure of herself – well, not anymore. She was married to the love of her life and she was still the powerful producer she had always been.

It was just as Wilson had said all those many months ago; she had only taken a rather long sick leave.

"Don't worry, Babcock, it's not like your kind can appear in pictures," the butler said, a teasing smile making its way across his features.

"It's you I'm worried about," the bride said, fastening his tie before she reached out for her bouquet. "How are you going to pay for the broken cameras? We both know they are likely to explode the moment they photograph your hideous visage"

"Well, I married a very rich woman," he replied taking hold of her hand and brushing the back of it with his thumb. "It's all coming out of our joint bank account."

"Then I expect some retribution from your part," she leaned closer to him, "And I have a few ideas we could try tonight."

C.C. felt almost smug when Niles' breath hitched.

"Then I hope to break as many cameras as possible – the more I break, the more I have to pay!"

They shared a laugh before Niles scooted closer to the door – they were awaiting for them, after all.

"Come on, it's show time," the producer said and her husband merely stepped out of the limo and offered a hand to her.

It was time.

C.C. took a deep breath, looked up at Niles and finally exited the limo. She couldn't help but smile when she caught a glimpse of a very annoyed Michelle Prince standing near the entrance.

"Look who it is," she mumbled to Niles as he took her hand, barely audible amongst the questions rapidly fired from all directions.

There were also a surprising number of compliments, too.

 _"Congratulations, newlyweds!"_

 _"You're looking wonderful, Mrs Brightmore! I love your dress!"_

 _"Mr Brightmore, you must feel like the luckiest man on the face of the Earth right now!"_

The last question was the only one the couple really appeared to acknowledge, and Niles turned in the direction that the comment had come from.

"I don't just feel like the luckiest man; I know _I am_ the luckiest man," he called out.

A chorus of " _aw_ 's" answered him, and he wrapped an arm securely around his wife, who gave a low chuckle.

"Smooth talker," she murmured as they slowly walked their way up the red carpet, not paying attention to any of the questions being shouted out. "This is our wedding, so you're basically guaranteed sex tonight. What else could you possibly be after, saying something like that?"

"Can't a man feel like the happiest person on Earth on the day of his wedding?" Niles asked. "A statement got directed at me, and I agreed with it, because I am the luckiest man."

He eyed the doorway of the hotel, having spotted the dreaded journalist when C.C. pointed her out.

"Besides," he continued, indicating in the right direction. "I had a feeling you might appreciate a little backup, what with us approaching New York Sleaze Day over there."

The producer glanced in Michelle's direction. The woman looked as though she had just swallowed something bitter, and it made C.C. oddly happy. It was time to show her exactly how well she was doing now.

"I'm not worried about her," C.C. said softly, and smiled at her husband. "As you said the other time, she is not worth it. But you are."

The softness in her tone made a pleasant warmth surge through Niles' body. He knew he was worthy of her, but hearing her say so, out loud and before the press, made him happier than words could explain.

It was a confirmation that, indeed, this was only the beginning of a beautiful life together.

He leaned down and gave her a chaste kiss, eliciting numerous wolf whistles, applauses and " _aww's_ " from the crowd. The couple grinned – they weren't used to so much attention, but sharing their happiness to the world was proving to be quite amusing.

"Let's get moving, dearest husband of mine," C.C. said as they pulled away and Niles tightened his grip on her waist. "Time's a-waistin'. They are expecting us and I still have one more little thing to do before we make our grand entrance."

Niles nodded and the couple continued their way towards the entrance, smiling both for the cameras and because they were happier than ever before. As they came closer to the entrance, C.C. focused on the awaiting reporter, who had realised C.C. was not going to let her off the hook after what had happened last time.

"Babcock," Niles said in an undertone; he had noticed the look on his wife's face – it was the same look she had when she cut business rivals down to size. "Please, no physical violence – we don't want the woman to end in a hospital and you arrested for assault."

"Relax, lover, it will only take a minute," C.C. said as she came to a halt before Michelle. There were a number of other reporters around her, but C.C. simply ignored their questions.

She only had one thing in mind – put Michelle in place.

Silence stretched between the two woman until C.C.'s lips curled in a smug smirk.

"I thought reporters were supposed to ask questions, Michelle."

The journalist, who had been looking away from the producer, suddenly looked up, "I beg your pardon?"

"Aren't you supposed to be doing your job right now?" C.C. gestured around them. "You know, reporting? On _my_ wedding day?"

Michelle straightened up to try and look C.C. in the eye, but the other woman saw her lip wobble.

"I'm here because my editor wants me here," Michelle half-muttered. "I have nothing to say to you, or to that dishcloth servant you call a husband."

The smile dropped from C.C.'s face. The reporter had made it personal before by bringing the producer's appearance into the fray, but if she hadn't just crossed a line then nothing could rile C.C. up.

No one brought Niles into this. They invited war if they did.

Letting go of Niles' hand, despite his best efforts to hold her back, she took threatening steps towards the other woman, face darkening.

"Listen here, you gossipy little pen-pusher," she snarled. "Call me anything you like – the hair will grow back and I'll put the weight back on and it takes a true Bitch Queen of the Universe to make fun of a cancer patient anyway. But the minute you bring my husband into this, you cross a line. I know that you must be just a little jealous because we just got married and I'm getting better and moving on with my life, when you're still doing _this going-out-getting-the-stories_ thing when you've had your eye on that editor's chair for – what is it? Eight? – years now and your boss just won't give it up. Rumour has it he passed you over for your own column again, too. Such a shame. That really could've been the ticket to you getting that prize spot. Think of it: "Michelle Prince: Entertainment Editor". Sounds nice, doesn't it? Such a pity it's just out of reach. Unlike the rest of my life."

She left the woman there, looking satisfyingly devastated, and turned back towards Niles. But before they walked into the hotel together, she threw one last comment over her shoulder.

"Maybe if you write a cover piece on tonight, he might consider changing his mind. _Ta-ta_ , Michelle."

"You truly are a fork-tongued spitfire, aren't you?" Niles said, wrapping his arm around her waist. He had realised the reporter was going to get a tongue-lashing from the producer as soon as he noticed C.C.'s darkened eyes. Knowing his wife, the whole situation could have ended in disaster, but it seemed she was far too happy to allow a sleazy reporter ruin their wedding day.

"Don't act so surprised, Hazel, that's one of the many reasons why you love me," she replied as they crossed the entrance door.

Being the bride and the groom they were taken to an anteroom adjacent to the main ballroom where they were supposed to wait until their guests were all seated so they could be properly announced as Mr and Mrs Brightmore.

 _Mrs Brightmore_... C.C. almost couldn't believe she was a married woman! Neither could Niles, for that matter – it still felt surreal.

Although nothing could spoil the day, the couple wasn't feeling quite so happy for C.C. having to return to the hospital in just five days. C.C. had always thought that she'd spend her honeymoon in some tropical paradise, not in a hospital room...

They also had only two more weeks to sleep in the same bed; once C.C. had finished the conditioning treatment, she would be moved to an isolated room, and she'd remain there for, at least, six to eight weeks.

Six to eight weeks during which her husband wouldn't be allowed to kiss her, or hold her or even feel her skin! In a sense, the producer felt like she was going to be locked inside a metaphorical glass box. She'd be able to see her husband, hear him and talk to him... but not touch him.

It was probably one of the most depressing thoughts she had had in a long while.

The wedding was a nice distraction, though, and she wanted to take advantage of all the time she had left with him.

And she was going to use that time for all it was worth.

As much as she could, surrounded as they were by friends and family, that is. Not that she couldn't wait until they were back at their penthouse, alone, but now was the time for small things they could get away with doing in public without having to slip away somewhere.

She knew where to start. She slipped her hand into his, and entwined their fingers, enjoying the feeling of his skin against hers and the cool, hard metal surface of his wedding ring brushing there, too.

Niles glanced between their fingers and her, and smiled, "You look like a woman who has something on her mind."

C.C. shrugged, "Maybe. But it's nothing bad."

"Really? That's something of a change in character for you," he smirked, turning slightly to take her other hand in his own. "Might I be allowed to know what's brought this about?"

C.C. pulled a face, but then smiled softly again, "Well, it's our wedding day. And...well, I'm going back into the hospital soon, and I thought I'd spend as much time as possible trying to be as near to you as I can possibly be. I know it might sound a little stupid coming from me, but that's just the way it is. I love you, and I want to show it before whatever happens...happens."

Niles sighed and pulled his wife close. He knew she was afraid – truth to be told he was just as afraid as she was, but he couldn't show it. He had to be strong for her... he had to be strong for them.

Throughout the years they had been many things: enemies, friends, lovers, spouses... and now he had to be her rock. He had to be the one to hold her together when everything was falling apart. And the best way to do that was by acquiescing her desire to enjoy they time they had left before going back to the hospital.

"It's not stupid, and I promise you I'll make sure that the time we have left until you go back to the clinic is the best you've ever had," he cupped her cheek and pressed a kiss to her lips. "Who knows, you might begin to enjoy having fun for a change."

"I thought we had established I do know how to have fun," the producer threaded her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer. "Only my version of having fun is rather... _mischievous_."

Niles chuckled, his hands making their way to the small of her back. "And it certainly shows in the bedroom, love."

"Well I..."

They were interrupted by the voice of the announcer, proclaiming that Mr and Mrs Brightmore were to make their great entrance.

"I suppose we'll have to continue this later," she murmured.

Niles gave her a lop-sided grin in reply, "Can't wait."

She shared his look, before slipping her arm through his and the couple took their positions to make their entrance.

As soon as the doors opened, they were greeted by all their guests on either side of the ballroom – cheering, and clapping, and a few wolf whistles that the newlyweds suspected came from either Wilson or Fran. The crowd parted more to allow them to go through to their table, and they crossed the dancefloor in order to get there.

"What music do you think they've got set up for us later?" C.C. asked quietly.

"I'm not sure, I got our song for the stereo back in the penthouse," Niles replied. "But if your parents planned all of this, I suppose they must have picked something."

They approached their seats, and Niles pulled out C.C.'s chair to allow her to sit down. He gave her hand one final squeeze, and was about to take his own chair when he noticed that the Sheffields, C.C.'s parents, and Noel and Edward were on their way over.

"Congratulations, Kitten!" Stewart exclaimed, taking a seat next to C.C. and wrapping his child in a one-armed hug. The man was beaming, and his eyes were shining; it had been years since she had seen her father look so happy. "Or shall I say, Mrs Brightmore!"

"Thank you, daddy," the producer then turned to her mother. "And to you too, Mother. This party was a wonderful surprise."

"Don't forget it was all my idea," a third, obnoxiously smug voice replied. "I know just how much you like secrets."

Niles and C.C. shared an eye-roll. But, they had to admit, Wilson had been responsible for all of this to happen, so they couldn't really be mad at him. Actually, they were quite grateful. That's why the doctor and Nurse Cameron were to sit with them in the main table.

"I'll send you a thank you gift basket," the producer simpered, but making a mental note to, at least, ask Niles to bake Wilson that chocolate cake he liked so much.

It didn't take long for the bride and the groom to be taken to the dance floor – it was time for their first dance. They were curious to see what song her parents (or maybe Wilson) had chosen for them. They smiled softly when "Our Love Is Here To Stay" began playing – they didn't care how they found out that was their song, they only cared about enjoying the moment.

Niles wrapped one of his arms around her waist while he slipped his free hand in hers. The feeling of being so close, just married, and surrounded by their many friends and family, who had come to celebrate their union, made the moment precious. So much so that they were sure they'd remember it for the rest of their lives.

They didn't exactly know for how long they danced, nor did they realise when the song nor when the other people in the room joined the dance floor.

They were too caught up in their own little world to notice.

"Can you believe we actually got them together?" Wilson said to Noel, who had just come back with some drinks for him and Edward.

The professor glanced at his sister and her new husband. It was almost unbelievable how far they'd come, but it was real nonetheless. His lips curled in a soft smile as he sat down next to his partner and allowed Edward to wrap an arm around his shoulders.

"We are both brilliant, aren't we?" he grinned back at the doctor. "The last time I saw them together, I thought their stubbornness would be the end of any hope!"

Wilson chuckled, "There's always hope, my friend. Granted, these two are the most frustratingly stubborn people on the face of this Earth, but, thanks to hope, they can now frustrate and annoy and irritate the rest of us together."

Noel looked for a moment like he understood and then smirked in agreement, before glancing between his friend and his partner. He then reached forward and picked up his drink.

"I propose a toast," he announced.

Edward's eyebrow raised as he, too, picked up his drink, "What are we toasting to?"

Noel smiled at him tenderly, "To hope. And to having enough faith to know that it's always there."

"Heck, even I'll drink to that," Wilson picked up his own glass and raised it. "Cheers."

They all clinked their glasses together, and drank.

"You do realise, my friends, that soon enough, we could all be sat at a nice function table like this again," Wilson leaned back in his seat, nursing his drink. "Only our golden couple over there might have a little bundle between them that they just made me godfather of."

"You sound very certain about that," Noel grinned in amusement. He himself knew that the doctor deserved it, considering he had managed to set the whole scenario up in his own way, but that didn't mean he couldn't have a little fun in the meantime. "They could make me the godfather. Or Maxwell Sheffield."

"Trust me, Noel, I know the Birghtmores as well as I know Cameron's cleavage," Wilson said as he glanced at the nurse, who was busy talking to C.C.'s father. "And if I push the right buttons, they'll make me their kid's godfather."

"We'll see about that," Noel replied, always up for a good challenge. "But for now we should enjoy their wedding – after all, it's going to be a while until that happens."

Wilson nodded, somewhat glumly. He knew C.C. was suffering from amenorrhea, but he hoped that her cycle would go back to normal after she had gained some more weight and once her body had recovered from the chemo.

Of course the possibility of infertility was still very much real, but he supposed the couple would cross that bridge when they came to it. After all, today was a day for celebration, not to think about if she could or could not conceive.

The oncologist was brought out of his musings by the presenter announcing it was time for the bride to toss the bouquet. It was almost comical when a certain former nanny practically jolted from her chair only to be reminded by her husband that she was already married.

"Sorry, honey, force of habit," Fran said, pecking Maxwell's cheek. "Too many years of being the bridesmaid."

Wilson watched as Cameron turned in his direction, winked, and walked to where the bride stood, and was soon joined by Noel, who gave Edward a wink of his own.

"I think they are trying to tell us something," Edward said, nudging Wilson in the side.

"Well, as long as the bouquet doesn't land in either of their hands, we are good," the oncologist replied, leaning back against his chair.

It didn't take long for his calmed expression to morph into one of amusement when the bouquet was snatched by a beaming Noel. Wilson's mouth dropped open, and he let out a shocked laugh as he slowly turned towards Edward. The other man's own mouth was on the cusp of being agape, too, held only from being so by the fact that Noel was looking right at him and couldn't help but look pleased with himself.

"Well, I guess one of us is good..." the doctor chuckled.

"Oh, shut up," Edward shifted in his seat and folded his arms, turning away from where his boyfriend was going to be congratulated by his sister and her husband. "I wouldn't have laughed if it had been you."

"Yeah, you would," Wilson sipped his drink. "Face it, pal; you're not gonna get out of this one. I know it might not be legal here, yet, but I hear the Netherlands are very close to approving it so you could always get engaged and then take a vacation-"

"Edward!" called a voice heading from the dancefloor. Noel was back, and he wasn't alone – Niles and C.C. were with him. And the pair of them were grinning all over their faces.

"Well, look who it is!" the bride announced, gesturing at Edward. "The next blushing groom-to-be! Close call, Wilson; it was almost your turn to make an honest woman out of a certain nurse you brought along as your date."

And it was true. Lisa had almost caught the bouquet, but Noel had been quicker.

"I should hope it will eventually be my turn," Wilson replied, eying Lisa, who was coming towards the table, too. "But when the time is right."

C.C. snorted a laugh. "And you said we took way too long to get together! Tell me, you've been working with Lisa for how long now? Eight, maybe nine years?"

"Ten and a half, actually," Nurse Cameron Piped up, wrapping her arms around Wilson.

"I rest my case," the producer said, leaning against her husband.

"I thought this day was about celebrating your new status as a married couple, not to discuss the state of my love life," Wilson replied. "Why don't you go and have some fun instead of worrying about me and Lisa? We'll see each other in two days time, after all."

C.C. chuckled. He doctor might be one of the best oncologists and have an acerbic type of humour, but he was still rather slow when it came to taking steps in his own relationship with Lisa.

But he did have a point. It was their day, and they might as well enjoy it.

* * *

The party went on until the evening, and Niles and C.C. were once again surprised when they were told they were to spend their wedding night in the best suite of the Waldorf Astoria. Well, it would be far better than having to go outside and face any of the press that were no doubt still waiting around for one last shot of the newlyweds, or one last comment or question answered.

It would have been nice to go back to their own bed, in their own penthouse, but it would be nice to have a little bit of luxury on their wedding night. And it would mean they'd get there without any trouble. They'd get some peace.

And the ride in the elevator up to the room was certainly peaceful. All the other guests in the hotel had long gone to bed by the time they made it up.

The suite was one of the most luxurious places Niles had ever been. He had often dreamed of spending a night in such a place, but he had never actually thought it would happen. Let alone with C.C., as part of their honeymoon...

It had always been a sort of fantasy. An unobtainable goal that was fun to think about and sigh over, but could never realistically happen.

And now here he was, reclining on the bed as C.C. got ready in the bathroom, having found a large package addressed to her waiting on the coffee table immediately in front of them when they'd entered the room.

It didn't take her long to come out, and it was obvious what had been in the box. A new silk nightie, which clung to her beautifully and ended half-way down her thigh. She leaned in the doorway, grinning.

"Hello, lover," she purred.

He sat more upright, his eyes drinking in every inch of her that he could see. By God, she was beautiful...

"Hello, Mrs Brightmore," he smirked. The name was music to his ears – music he could repeat as many times as he wanted.

And then she was walking towards him.

How did he get so lucky? Come to think of it, that didn't actually matter, did it? What mattered was that he was lucky. She was his wife. They were together, and nothing was going to come between them. Not the cancer, not her family, not the media, or her having to go back into the hospital.

Nothing in the entire world.

His last clear thought as she climbed onto the bed and made to straddle him was how he was going to show her as many times as possible before they had to be apart for a while.

The thought only disturbed him slightly. He was too busy caught up in loving her to notice too much.


	18. Chapter 18

**_Chapter 18_**

"Are you sure you have everything?" Niles asked, sitting the last of C.C.'s suitcases behind the penthouse door.

"I think so, yes," his wife replied from the couch where she was sitting. He frowned – there was a tinge of apprehension in her voice. One that he knew far too well...

After they came back from the Waldorf Astoria, Niles and C.C. had divided their time between packing for her next stay at the hospital and making love. Niles had tried his hardest to distract her from having to go back into the hospital, but to no avail.

C.C. was visibly bothered by needing to go back when she had just gotten married. Well, truth to be told she was upset about needing to go back. Period. She wouldn't say it aloud, but Niles suspected his wife had developed a hate for hospitals.

She had been acting strange since last night, and it had all reached a zenith that morning, when Niles mentioned that they'd better start getting ready to go.

C.C. was quieter than usual, more reserved...

His wife had chosen to wear a pair of sweatpants, a comfortable t-shirt and sneakers. It was not her usual choice of clothes, but she'd figured she needed to be comfortable rather than look good. He knew she was once again trying to keep a brave face before him, to pretend she wasn't affected by going back to the clinic, but he could see right through her.

Niles shuffled towards C.C. and sat next to her, allowing her to snuggle against his side. "You do know you can tell me if something is wrong, right?" he asked softly, brushing his fingers against her cheek.

She sighed heavily, shifting so she couldn't actually (accidentally or not) hear his heartbeat for once. Usually, the sound would be comforting, but her husband was worrying so much that his heartbeat was probably speeding up, and not being able to hear his internal concern would make talking about it easier.

"I just...wish I didn't have to go back, that's all," she explained. "I hate the thought of having to go back to that place."

"It's only for a while, love," he told her gently, hugging her as tightly and securely as he could.

C.C. sniffed, "A while without you."

Her husband sighed, and rested his head on hers, "I know, I know...it's going to be difficult. But it's always said that things are darkest just before the dawn. And we have gone through so much darkness, C.C., it's going to be so bright coming out the other side. You are going to get better, and we are going to spend the rest of our lives together. But we have to go through this first. One last little push."

"One last little push," she repeated lamely. "Just a pity I feel like I don't have the strength anymore. I've gotten so used to being here, with you...not having that is gonna hurt, Niles. Not being able to wake up next to you, kiss you awake, or even hold your hand."

"It's going to hurt us both," he replied. "But we both have to be strong. You have to summon up that last little bit of strength you still have, because that is what will get you through. You can't lose it."

She looked up at him, "I hope I don't. That last little strength I have is you."

He smiled at her, "Well, then. You're not going to lose that. And that strength will be there with you for as long as he can be, every day, and will be thinking of you when he can't be. And he hopes you hold him in your heart, too, because then he'll never have to leave you."

"God, Niles, how is this marriage going to work if you are so corny?!" she laughed, swatting at his arm. She might put up a show of disliking this soft, gentle side of him, but it reassured her. It reassured her to know that he'd be there, even if they couldn't be together physically.

Well... he could still go into her room! He'll only need to wear scrubs and a mask. Besides, they still had some days until she was moved to an isolated room – first she had to go through the conditioning treatment, and only after her immune system had been completely destroyed she'd have to be isolated.

She still had some more time with him...

And then, it was only a matter of waiting a few weeks and he'd be able to hold her again. Wilson had explained them it took between six to eight weeks for her immune system to be sufficiently recuperated for her to be allowed to leave the isolated room, which meant that she'd have to bear two months without sharing a bed with her husband.

As hard as that sounded, she knew it was for the best. Once this was over they'd be together and, when the time was right, they might even find themselves bringing a little new Brightmore home.

She had gone years without him, and almost four months without even seeing him – she was strong enough to bear this.

She had to be strong. If not for her but for Niles.

"I'm not corny – I'm merely showing the woman of my life just how much I love her," he replied before giving her a quick kiss and helping her up. They needed to get going or they'd be late, which would only result in Wilson making a rather erroneous suggestion about why they were late.

"And there you go again... Niles, did you swallow a romance novel?" she said as each spouse took hold of one of her suitcases. This stay at the hospital would be shorter than the last one, but they still needed to take a number of things.

Wilson had warned Niles wouldn't be allowed to stay overnight once she had been moved into the isolated room, but at least they were told that the room counted with a phone, and Niles had promised to call C.C. every evening before he went to bed.

In that way she wouldn't feel so alone.

"No, but I might end up going through a few while you're away," he replied. "I was thinking 'Pride and Prejudice' again. Reading it to someone else is different from reading it to yourself."

"Really? How so?" she asked as he opened the front door and allowed her to step into the corridor outside.

"Well, you're paying attention to their reaction just as much, if not more, than you are the actual words," he explained, closing the door and beginning to walk towards the elevators. "At least, I was."

C.C. smirked, "So you were saying the book, but reading me?"

Niles shrugged, "Well, I clearly found something I liked and it wasn't written by Austen."

"Luckily for you, there won't be any distractions for a while," C.C. chuckled, pressing the elevator button. "Who knows, by the time I get back, I might have my very own Mr Darcy."

Niles feigned an unamused look as they stepped inside, "You mean everything I've been doing up until now hasn't been enough to put me in the same league as someone fictional?"

"Oh, Niles," C.C. bit back a very amused grin. "Of course not."

There was silence for a few seconds, during which the couple stared at each other. C.C. then beamed.

"You're better," she said. "And all I can do is thank you for it."

The elevator doors opened, and they stepped out, heading for the exit. A taxi was waiting just the other side.

Niles insisted in putting her luggage in the trunk, and his wife caved in after a few fruitless attempts at protesting. He knew she was well enough to put the luggage in the trunk, but he didn't want her to tire herself when she was about to go back into the hospital.

Once the luggage was safely placed insise the trunk, Niles stepped into the cab and it sped off in the direction of the clinic. They didn't talk much during the ride; C.C. merely snuggled against Niles' side and he held her, as he usually did. He had noticed she had gained a fair amount of pounds – her bones didn't jut out as much as they did when she had first left the hospital and she had developed a bit of muscle due to their walks and frequent lovemaking. Her hair had started to grow back, too; his wife now had about an inch and a half of hair, and actually seeing her hair slowly gorw back had done wonders for her moods.

She now saw the end.

It would all be over soon...

But, as he kept reminding himself, she wasn't entirely okay, and he still needed to ensure she was taking care of herself. He loved C.C. with all his heart, but the woman was awful in what regarded to having a healthy lifestyle. Not to get him wrong, she had made changes in her lifestyle and did try to take care of herself as best as she could, but she still needed some help.

Luckily for her, he was more than happy to provide it.

When the hospital came in sight, he felt his wife tighten her grip on him. She was dreading it already, and there was nothing else that he could do but offer moral support.

He hoped it was enough.

It didn't take long for them to spot Wilson, who was looking slightly more serious than usual, waiting for them at the hospital's entrance. By his side there was a wheelchair, too.

The reaction in C.C. was almost immediate.

"Niles..." she tugged at his shirt. "Niles, let's go back home."

The butler sighed. He knew this was going to be hard, but he hadn't expected her to be this reluctant. "C.C., we've been through this before, you ne-"

"Niles, please, I'm fine... I'll just... we'll come next month. Please, let's go back home."

"C.C.," he said more firmly, but keeping his voice as gentle as he could. "We can't go back now. We can only go forward."

"I don't want to go forward," she replied, clearly starting to panic. "Going forward means putting my entire life on hold again. It means not being with you, and I'm not ready for that. Not yet. We need more time!"

"We'll have all the time in the world when you're out of the hospital, sweetheart," he reminded her softly. "And you have to go in, so that you can get better, and we don't ever have to come back again. We just both have to be brave."

The producer seemed to process this for a moment, and she swallowed, clutching at his hand tightly.

She wanted to be brave for him, like he was being brave for her. And he was right – if this worked, they wouldn't have to come back again. And she herself knew that she shouldn't let this get to her, anyway; she was C.C. Babcock, the Bitch of Broadway! She was stronger than this, and if she'd been prepared to go through the entire treatment alone, she could go through part of it with her husband supporting her from a distance.

 _Such a distance..._

No. She had to do this. They had to endure it, just for a little while. And then they could go on with their lives again.

She took in a breath, and nodded, straightening up, "Alright. I will be. It's the least I can do, seeing as you basically took a tangent in your own life for me, reading that letter and coming to the hospital like you did."

"And I'd do it again if I had to," he said, brushing his hand up and down her arm. "Think about it, C.C. – you have been battling this for almost a year! You are almost there, love, I promise the time left will go past in the blink of an eye."

Damn... he was right. It was almost surreal that it had been exactly eleven months and two weeks since she had been diagnosed with cancer. She remembered the moment when she had first been given her diagnosis as if it were yesterday – she remembered the crushing sensation of dread, the grief she had forced herself to squash down, the almost paralysing fear spreading through her body like poison...

 _And yet here she was._

Married to the gentlest man she had ever met and only a step away from finishing her treatment. When she really thought about it, her current fears were rather ridiculous. The worst part of her treatment was over, she had gone through eight long months of chemotherapy, had lost all her hair and her frame was painfully thin...

Honestly, after going through such an ordeal three more months at the clinic now didn't seem so bad! Especially when there would be someone waiting to take her home after all of this was over.

"You are right," she conceded as the taxi came to a halt. "The faster we get this over and done with, the faster we can go home."

"That's the attitude I like!" Wilson piped up, opening the cab's door. "It's good to see you again, Mrs Brightmore."

"Good to see you, too, Wilson," the producer smiled at her doctor and took his proffered hand while her husband took care of paying the cab driver. "And you are never going to get tired of using my new name, aren't you?"

"Not a chance in hell," Wilson said as he guided his patient to the wheelchair. They had eight days until she was moved into the isolated room, and in the meantime the producer was to receive extremely high doses of chemotherapy that would even destroy her immune system and make room for the transplant issue.

He was thankful for her having brought her husband with her – she'd need him in the days to come. The conditioning treatment was the hardest part, but once she had been moved into the isolated room, then she'd only need to rest and let his bone marrow make the rest. The transplant, unlike the conditioning treatment, was not painful nor it caused severe side effects.

It didn't take long for C.C. to be admitted – Niles took care of all the paperwork – and be settled inside her room. More specifically, inside her hospital bed.

Wilson was trying to keep the atmosphere distended and pleasant, but the producer was restless – which was no wonder for Wilson was about to connect her to an IV that would deliver a cocktail of chemo drugs that were even stronger than the ones she had been given when she was first admitted into the hospital.

"Well, this feels familiar," she deadpanned, before giving her husband a half-smile as he sat with her, on the edge of her bed.

"Familiar, but not permanent," Niles patted her leg, which she had already tucked underneath the bedsheets. "It'll fly by quicker than you know. You'll see."

His wife nodded, and conceded him a smile. He most likely wouldn't be allowed to stay too long, and she wanted to look as happy as possible for him. It would keep him from worrying when he got back home. Well, maybe not completely, but it would ease his fears a little.

Another thing easing his fears would be the doctor leaning in the doorway, giving them some space but very clearly listening in. C.C looked away from her husband, up towards Wilson.

"Something the matter, Wilson?" she asked.

The doctor shrugged, "Just enjoying seeing you two interacting now that you've come to your senses and gotten married. Don't get me wrong, I know being here is serious and the two of you are going to go through a rough time being apart, but nothing warms this cold, dead heart of mine like knowing how happy you'll be together when this is all behind you."

C.C. made a face like she was almost impressed, "Wow, Wilson. If it hadn't come from you, I'd almost say that was both heartfelt and touching."

"Considering it's Wilson, I'd say it's more than heartfelt and touching," Niles said.

"Don't worry, it's just a matter of time before I go back to being an asshole," Wilson perched on the other side of the bed and gently inserted a cannula into her skin. He then connected the IV line to it and started the dripping.

The oncologist was kind enough to pretend to ignore the sudden increase of her heartbeat – all the people in the room knew she was nervous, hence her appreciating them not commenting on it.

Once Wilson had finished hooking her up to the IV, Niles moved to embrace C.C., who snuggled closer to him.

"Aw, aren't you two adorable?" Wilson said with a condescending smile (although the Brightmores knew he was more than happy to see them cuddled up).

"Not as you and Cameron, I daresay," C.C. shot back shifting in Niles' embrace so she could face Wilson. "And on that note – tell me, have you told her that you want her to move in with you?"

"And who told you that?!" the oncologist exclaimed, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. He was the one who usually meddled in people's lives, he wasn't used to being at the losing end.

It seemed turnabout was fair play.

"My brother, of course," C.C. said, smirking. "I have yet to decide what I'll do with this more than valuable information."

"You better keep that big mouth of yours shut," Wilson retorted, walking to the door. "I am planning to ask her soon and it's a surprise, so don't you dare ruin it for me – all I need is time."

"And speaking of time, Wilson," Niles piped up, the doctor's words bringing something to the front of his mind. "Until what hour am I allowed to stay?"

The oncologist's brow furrowed. "What do you mean? You can stay overnight! I think you might have misunderstood me when I explained you how the transplant worked – you can't stay overnight only when she is moved to the isolated room. Until then you are permitted to stay with the blonde irritation here."

A jolt of happiness shot straight through the couple. It was sort of like being given a reprieve – fate seemed to be taking it easy on them. They still had a few more days! Granted, it wouldn't be like being at home, where they could be intimate in all sorts of ways, but being able to hold each other and fall asleep together for a little while longer would be wonderful.

"Really?" C.C. looked joyfully between her husband and the doctor, the latter of whom shrugged.

"Would I lie about something like this to my two favourite people in this hospi-"

The clearing of a throat behind him interrupted his question. He turned, to see Nurse Cameron enter the room to start work. Wilson then turned back to the couple.

"Would I lie about something like this to two of my favourite people in this hospital?" he asked, grinning.

Cameron muttered, smirking, "That's better."

C.C. stifled a chuckle as she answered, "I guess not. Especially not when I could find something out about you and hold it over you as punishment. I've got time."

"That's very true," Wilson said pointedly, although C.C. thought she could detect a hint of relief in the way he spoke and looked then. Perhaps he'd been afraid that she would let the news of what he had planned slip.

But she wasn't going to do that. He'd helped them get together, after all, so spoiling his plans wouldn't be fair.

"But I would hope that you'd find something better to do," the doctor continued. "Scheming uses up energy, after all."

"If that's true, then you should have been tired for as long as I've known you," Niles piped up to her.

"I have been tired all that time," C.C. pulled a face at him. "I thought it was a side effect from meeting you."

"And I bet now certain activities with him leave you just as tired," Wilson joked, giving the couple a sly smile. "Which I hope you don't do here – as I told you back then, one thing is walking in on you sleeping, and another is walking in on you specifically not sleeping."

"Can you take your mind out of your gutter?!" Nurse Cameron said.

"Not when you are around," Wilson wrapped an arm around his girlfriend's waist.

"Oh, so now I am responsible for your poor bedside manners?"

"Nope. That's all me – I'm merely stating that, with such a beautiful woman as you walking around, it's hard to "take my mind out of the gutter"."

"Smooth talker," said C.C., Niles and Cameron in unison.

The doctor shrugged minutely. "It usually works with her."

Giving one last eye roll, Lisa grasped Wilson's collar and practically dragged him out of the room. If it was to give the couple privacy or for some other reason, they didn't know. They only were thankful to be left alone.

To keep his wife entertained, the butler put on C.C.'s favourite movie, which Niles knew was Titanic. Not that C.C. would admit it to anyone but her husband, but she was a huge sap for love movies.

Now that he knew he wasn't supposed to leave, Niles had crawled under the covers with his wife and held her close to him as the chemicals treated her. Just as expected, it didn't take long for her to feel sleepy and eventually doze off.

Niles needed to watch C.C. sleep. If was one of the few moments when he was, in a way, alone. In those moments he took a rest from being her rock, he took a rest from pretending to be invincible. In those moments he was just as scared as she was, and holding her close brought a sense of peace and comfort that he couldn't quite explain.

He knew that, in this time of need, he had to be strong for the both of them, but it was hard. Incredibly hard...

Seeing her so scared and knowing she'd be in pain soon, made him want to weep, but if he showed his fear, then she'd crumble down, and that was the last thing he wanted.

Niles felt her shift in his embrace and moan in her sleep. It didn't taken long for her stomach to churn. Months of experience made him know exactly what was about to happen.

She was going to be ill.

He gently shook her awake, "C.C. - C.C., wake up!"

"Hm?" C.C. blinked awake, and immediately began to gag and splutter, her eyes widening.

Registering that she was awake enough to hold herself upright, Niles let go of her to reach down and snatch up the bin, just in time to catch his wife before she threw up over the bed.

It was almost exactly like it had been before. It was just fortunate they were well-practiced in how to handle it.

He held the bin there for her for the entire duration, not allowing her to take it in case her hands suddenly slipped. When she was finished, she rested her chin on the side of the bin and caught her breath back.

"More months of this," she moaned forlornly. "How terrific."

Niles sighed. He understood her sarcastic attitude right then, but the reminder that she would be going through this for months without him being able to be there and that there was nothing he could do about it made him feel worse. Not that he was going to show it. Instead, he reached behind him, pulled a couple of tissues from the box on the bedside table, and tenderly wiped C.C.'s face for her.

"Not as many as you've already overcome, love," he said softly. "I know it's going to be hard, but it won't be for long."

"That's easy for you to say," she grumbled, leaning back against her bed. She knew it was unfair to snap at him – he was taking care of her and wasn't to blame for her being allergic to nausea medication – but she just couldn't help it. She abhorred being at the hospital, and most of all, she hated having to go through treatment again. And soon enough she'd have to do it without Niles.

Yes, he was going be there, but he'll have to use scrubs and a mask! She wasn't going to be allowed to feel his skin or even kiss him...

And it hurt.

He understood, too, so he didn't take her anger personal. His wife was just frustrated, and when that happened her temper was extremely short.

Niles lowered the bin back to the floor, leaving it near in case C.C. needed it again, and wrapped his arms around his wife. "Do you need anything, love?"

C.C. sighed. There was a part of her that wanted to weep – throwing up only meant that she'd soon lose the few pounds she had gained. Shem's also start feeling weak again and the neuropathy would come back full force. If she was being honest, she simply needed to get out of there, but that wasn't a viable option. So, maybe she should try asking for something more simple and that she knew she could get.

"I want to brush my teeth," she eventually said, sitting back up with her husband's help. Niles then edged round the side of her bed, moved her IV stand from the side of her bed and helped her out of bed.

The producer discovered, much to her chagrin, that she was already feeling weak, and the world around her seemed to spin. She was thankful for Niles having wrapped an arm around her waist to support her as well as using her other hand to push her IV stand around; she doubted she'd have made it to the bathroom if he hadn't been there.

Once inside the bathroom, Niles made her sit on the armchair next to the bathtub while he got her toothbrush and applied some toothpaste on it.

"Here we are, love," he made sure she had a complete hold on it before he let go.

"Thanks," she sighed heavily, and began gently brushing her teeth. The producer figured she might as well take her time, seeing as she was still a little dizzy and that wouldn't help her if she had to get up to go to the sink.

Niles leaned against the edge of the bath, and waited for her to finish. It was horrible to think about, but he couldn't help imagining her doing this on her own over the next few weeks.

He helped her to stand when she was ready, and brought her over to the sink to spit.

"Feel better?" he asked, replacing his arm around her waist when she'd finished wiping her mouth with a hand towel.

"Physically," she replied feebly, resting herself fully against him.

Sighing, he allowed her to do so, and wound both his arms around her waist. Of course she didn't feel completely better. She wouldn't feel completely better until she was leaving the place.

But he could at least try to ease her distress. He held her to him, tightly and lovingly, always taking care not to disturb her IV. He knew his embrace would provide the comfort she craved, and he was determined not to let go – at least not when his wife needed him.

They didn't speak for what felt like an eternity – words weren't really necessary, and if they were being honest, they'd do more harm than good. C.C. didn't need anyone to tell her why she had to stay nor that it would be over soon – she knew that already. What she needed was to be held, loved, consoled...

And Niles was doing exactly that.

Gently, when it became obvious C.C. needed to rest, he took them back to her room but this time – knowing she wouldn't appreciate to go back to her bed – Niles guided them to the sofa and they lied upon it. It was big enough for them to cuddle comfortably and it made C.C. feel less like an invalid than when she was in her bed.

But no matter how tightly he held her or where they rested, there was a sense of hopelessness that C.C. couldn't get rid off. It was the same feeling she had when she had first come to the hospital. The only difference, was that now she actually had someone who truly loved her on whose shoulder she could cry. And that's exactly what she did – she cried.

She cried because she was scared, because she was in pain, because she was sick, because he wouldn't be able to hold her or touch her like this for almost two months...

She cried because it was too much and, after almost a year of being strong, she couldn't keep her anguish inside her any longer.

Niles knew as well as she did that nothing he could say would quite be enough to console her, so he just held her and let her weep, feeling very much like he could join her at any moment. But it wouldn't do either of them any good if they were both in tears. She needed him right then.

He could break down later, when it wasn't as important.

He just held her as tightly as her condition and the presence of the IV would allow instead.

Neither knew how long they were there for – it didn't really matter to Niles, anyway. But eventually C.C.'s sobs quietened until they died away completely, and were replaced by sniffles and uneven breathing as she calmed herself. He rubbed her back, providing as much comfort as he was able, and rested his cheek on the top of her head.

It would all be over soon, he told himself, it would all be over soon and they wouldn't have to do this again. The nightmare would be over.

They just had to get through this. That was all.

And although words weren't nearly enough to get them through this, there was one phrase in particular that Niles thought an exception to the rule.

"I love you," he said softly.

C.C. looked up at him and, although small, she gave him a smile. A sincere one. "I love you too."

Just as he suspected, that little – but most important– phrase was truly a wonderful exception to the rule.

* * *

 **AN: Sorry for the delay! I haven't had time to upload due to my trip and all (and I'm having a great time btw). Anyway, there are two more chapters on the way! The last two, we must say.**

 **As usual, we appreciate reviews :) Please, it makes our day and encourages us!**

 **Hope you enjoyed then chapter!**

 **H &L**


	19. Chapter 19

**_Chapter 19_**

The days between C.C. admittance to the hospital and her being moved to an isolated room seemed to fly past, and sooner than either of them would have liked, their last night together had made its arrival.

C.C. was cuddled up against Niles, and the butler had one arm wrapped around her waist, holding her to him. Since the new chemo dosages were a lot stronger than the ones she had received during her first stay at the hospital, C.C.'s body had weakened with unbelievable speed.

She had lost quite an amount of pounds and the neuropathy had barely allowed her to get up of bed or even be completely conscious for long – Wilson had administered morphine when it became obvious letting her suffer like she was could be considered almost inhuman, which had made her feel quite lightheaded.

Niles had been there, through it all, and although he was just as broken as she was, the man had refused to show weakness before his wife. He had to be her rock, her hero... and as such he had to pretend to be coping a lot better than he really was.

But right then he wasn't worried about that. No, he was worried about enjoying his last night with C.C.. She was feeling unusually well that night, and both took it as a good omen.

"Niles?" she asked, shifting in his embrace so she could look at him.

"Yes, love?"

"We... we need to talk..." she sighed, entwining their ringed hands together. "About what's gonna happen tomorrow and about the future. About what we are going to do both in case I get better and in case I don't make it."

Niles felt a stabbing pain in his chest. He supposed this conversation had been inevitable, really, but it didn't make it any less painful to have to face.

He took in a deep breath, and he nodded, "Alright. It's probably for the best."

"I know it is," C.C. muttered, biting the inside of her lip. She was unsure of where to begin, exactly. She'd been hoping that she'd have an idea when she opened her mouth to ask him about it, but nothing had presented itself.

Well, seeing as it was to happen tomorrow, she might as well start with that.

"Okay. First of all, tomorrow; we'll have to say goodbye fairly early, I think. But please don't torture yourself by hanging around the hospital afterwards. You'll feel much better if you do something to distract yourself – go see the Sheffields, or something like that, but don't hang around here."

"Alright," he nodded, feeling like maybe he'd be able to do that, even if he did drag his feet on his way out. "And...other things? The future?"

This was going to be the more difficult part.

"Yes. The future," the thought was gnawing away inside her, and she responded to it by biting in the inside of her lip more. "I guess we should start with the future that...I'm not in."

There was silence. Niles didn't want to think about that kind of future, but he knew it wouldn't do any good to stop her, so he let her continue.

"Naturally, the penthouse, the money, everything is yours," she said firmly. "You're my husband, and even if it wasn't your legal right, I would want you to have it. You'll have a place to live and you'll be comfortable for the rest of your life."

The butler couldn't help but be touched by that. So much so, that he still couldn't think of anything to say.

"And, after a suitable amount of time of course, it might help you to...move on," C.C. stated, apparently trying to keep some emotion under wraps.

The butler blinked, not quite understanding, "I'm sorry, love?"

"You're charming, witty, kind, intelligent..." C.C. shrugged. "All that's missing for a lot of girls is money and a place to live. If I'm not around, it shouldn't be to hard for you to-"

"I'm sorry, C.C., I'm going to have to stop you right there," he interrupted, clutching at her arms. "Are you suggesting that...if...if something happens, I should find someone else?"

"I'm not going to make you swear to be alone forever, Niles," she replied. "You might meet someone, like them, want to try and build a future with them. And I don't want to be some ghost lingering in the background, pouring curses on you for trying to be happy. I want you to know that I'll be happy for you, too. You'll have my blessing."

Niles didn't know what to say. Part of him just didn't even want to think about a world where she wasn't there with him; and even if that happened, he would never find someone like her.

He simply knew no woman could ever compare to her, and if he ever lost her, he'd live on for her, but would never attempt to find someone else. If he was being honest, he doubted he'd ever be happy again if something happened to her.

And yet... there was another part of him that kept reminding himself how Maxwell had said the same when Sarah died and fate had then proved him wrong by putting Fran Fine in his way. But he wasn't Maxwell, and Niles was fairly certain that, unlike what had happened with Maxwell and Fran, he would never be able to move on.

He appreciated her wanting to make sure he was happy even if she wasn't there anymore, but that was a possibility he simply didn't want to think about. Instead, he wound his arms around his wife and pulled her to him, as though trying to reassure himself she was still there, alive and breathing.

"Niles," C.C. spoke again, softly caressing his cheek. "Promise me you'll go on and try to be happy even if I'm gone."

"C.C. I..." Niles' voice faltered. Could he promise such a thing? Could he really? He doubted it... "I don't know if I can promise it-"

"But Niles-"

"Let me finish, C.C.." he said gently. "I can't promise it, but I can try."

C.C. heaved a sigh. His answer wasn't exactly the one she wanted, but it was better than anything. He'd try, and she knew her husband well enough to be sure he meant it.

But there was another more important promise she needed Niles to make. One that was probably the most difficult one she'd ever had to ask of him.

"Alright, I can accept that. But I need you to make me another promise," she looked up at him, wanting him to see just how important this was for her. "I know you want me to live, but if things go wrong and I... I end up depending on a machine to live; if I end up slipping into a coma from which I'll never wake up, or if there is no hope for me, then I want you to..." she gulped. "... to promise me you'll disconnect me. I don't want you to cling to my body if there is no more hope for me."

That was almost too much for Niles to bear – he knew she'd hear the unpleasant hitching in his breath that told of his unbearable pain at the thought. And of course his mind then pulled up all the awful, unwanted pictures: C.C. slipping into a coma, him keeping a bedside vigil for days, weeks, months...until Wilson finally came and told him that she wasn't coming out of it. That there was nothing more they could do. That he had to let her go. And finally, him giving the hideous word that would allow the machines around her bed to fall silent, and her heartbeat to finally cease. He could see himself holding her body afterwards, weeping, inconsolable, and knowing that even though C.C. had forgiven him, he would never be able to forgive himself.

But maybe that was better than her never forgiving him for making her live on when she wanted to to slip away. The alternative just wasn't her. Somehow the thought of her watching him from wherever she was, disappointed because he couldn't keep his last promise to her, seemed more terrible than anything else.

It was the worst decision he'd ever have to make. But if she wanted him to make it, then he had no choice.

He steadied his breathing, and clenched his fist tightly to try and alleviate some of the difficulty behind his words, "If that is what you want me to do..."

"Thank you," she said, relief permeating through her words. "I know this is the least likely outcome, but we needed to talk about it nonetheless."

The producer's hand, which had been caressing his cheek, travelled to his chest and slipped underneath his shirt. Feeling the beating of his heart against her hand was probably one of the things that soothed her the most. She could tell he was upset by the rapid thumping she felt underneath her palm, so she slowly and gently brushed her hand against his chest in a circular motion.

Soon, she shifted in his embrace so his cheek could be reached by her lips, and she simply spread kisses on his wrinkled face. Her other arm wrapped itself around his back and threaded her fingers through his hair, relaxing him further.

She was still there, with him, and if everything went well then they could leave all this nightmare behind and start building their family.

"I know," he whispered back, resting his head against her chest. He was thankful for her touch – they were talking about a hypothetical situation, but she was right, it needed to be discussed. If he was afraid for what could happen to her, he couldn't even begin to imagine how it would be for C.C..

He could still lose his wife, but his wife could still lose her very life.

But they had to stay positive – Wilson had said the treatment was working, and C.C. had responded extremely well to her treatment. They had to think everything would be just fine.

Now that the worst case scenario had been discussed, they could move on to a slightly better subject – how they'd face her having to be in an isolated room.

"I suppose we should move onto what we know will actually happen," he said. "Specifically, how we're going to deal with your new living arrangements for the next few months."

"Yes," C.C. pulled away from kissing him, pulling her legs up so she was curled up right by him. "Well, we already know you'll have to wear protective gear to come in. And we won't be allowed to touch. But we can still talk."

"Luckily talking is something we do well," Niles slipped an arm around her lower back, and rested his head against hers. He might as well make use of the time they still had. "We managed to spend most of our time twenty years before this mostly doing nothing but talking to or at each other. We can spend another few months doing that."

His wife gave a soft but sardonic laugh, "Everything we've been through recently, and we end up back at the zingers."

"It's better than nothing," he reminded her.

The producer had to give him that. Being able to talk to him for a while each day, plus phone calls at night like she promised, was better than no form of contact at all. She wasn't entirely sure how good her chances were, but she knew they'd improve as long as he was with her, helping her through it.

"You're right, I'm sorry," she sighed. "I should be looking for the positives in a scenario like this."

He didn't even need to say anything for her to know he'd forgiven her already. He simply tightened his hold on her briefly, and kissed her temple.

"It's been quite a while since we've had any form of a battle of wits, don't you think?" he asked, a plan forming in his head to try and cheer her up.

"Now that you mention it, I hadn't realised it had been so long since we last bantered."

"Not nearly as long than since the last time you were persecuted by angry peasants, I'm sure," he smirked when he noticed the telltale smile making its way across C.C.'s features.

"That's rich coming from someone who is old enough to be a war veteran – and I mean a veteran from the English Civil War," his wife retorted.

"You would know! I believe women like you served as nurses. I'm sure it must have been thrilling to have so many men suffer at your hands."

"Perhaps – but right now there is only one man I'm interested in torturing," she said, craning her neck forward so as to peck his cheek.

"And who would that poor soul be?"

"Well, he is an obnoxious servant that somehow lured me into marrying him," C.C. glanced at both of their bejewelled hands. Few things warmed her heart like seeing the glittering golden bands adorning their fingers.

"Demons like yourself never enter a deal without knowing they'll get something in return," he said, nuzzling her cheek. "So what did he offer you that made the Ice Queen herself say yes to his proposal?"

There was a silence between them. But it wasn't uncomfortable or tense – it was calm and soothing. It somewhat reminded Niles of the silence that reigned in an amphitheater before the orchestra began to play. A prelude of the sweet music that was yet to come.

"Well... he gave me something I couldn't refuse."

"The souls of your enemies? Satan's throne?"

The producer chuckled. "No... he gave me love."

The banter had been short and sweet, but it had done its job. Not just for C.C., either – it had cheered Niles, too. Going back to something they did well had managed to change the mood completely, which felt like a small relief.

And any relief whatsoever was a mercy at this stage.

He chuckled softly, and pressed a kiss to her cheek, "The poor man didn't know what he was getting into. But he would do everything he has done all over again, happily, for the rest of his days, because for as much love as he gave, he gets just as much in return and that makes him the happiest man on the planet."

C.C. grinned at him, "You're such a smooth talker."

Niles matched her look, "But we both know that you wouldn't have me any other way."

He leaned forward, and kissed her softly on the lips. For a few moments, all they did was kiss, each enjoying the feeling and closeness of the other. If they weren't to touch for so long, it gave a perfect excuse to touch as much as possible beforehand.

As they pulled away to catch their breath, the next part of their planned conversation occurred to Niles.

"Speaking of the rest of my days," he murmured against her lips. "We still need to discuss the most likely outcome; you coming out of this hospital, and us being allowed to go on with our lives."

C.C. pulled away. "That's true. I suppose you already know that we have to wait a few weeks until we discover if I am in remission."

"I do," he said, brushing a hand up and down her arm. "Wilson told me it takes around six weeks to determine if a cancer patient is in remission."

"Correct."

"And to say you are completely cured we have to wait five years without your cancer returning," he continued.

"Yes, and the road to recovery will be long and will require me to make many changes in my lifestyle," C.C. said. Wilson had told her that, once her treatment was over, she'd need to focus on recovering; she needed to have healthy eating habits, start exercising to regain muscle, she had to go to regular check ups...

Basically, her life would revolve around getting better, and she'd need Niles to give her a hand. Her oncologist had also warned her that after a long treatment, it was usual for cancer patients to have emotional ups and downs, to feel angry about having had cancer, to have trouble coping with what happened to them...

She was reluctant to go to a cancer support group, as Wilson had suggested, but maybe it was for the best.

"Exactly," Niles gave her arm a comforting squeeze. "But you don't have to worry about a thing; I'm going to be there with you, every step of the way."

"I know," she shifted to rest her forehead against his cheek. "Thank you."

"You don't have to keep thanking me, love," Niles huffed out a slight laugh. "You know I consider it both an honour and a privilege."

"And I consider that something to be thankful for," his wife replied. "If I didn't have you, I don't know what would've happened so far. But I doubt I'd be quite so willing to let other people support me. You know, I'm even thinking that Wilson's support group isn't such a terrible idea?"

Niles' eyebrow raised, leaning away from her, "Who are you, and what have you done with my wife?"

C.C. chuckled, "Forgive a girl for having a change of heart. It's not my first."

Niles smirked and pulled her back to him again, "I know it isn't. And we're going to have a long time together to see how many more times you can decide that perhaps good things aren't so bad for you after all."

Something in his voice made her think that, just maybe, he was completely right. At least, she had to keep faith that he was correct and things would be alright. There was always hope that they were.

But the overthinking and the stress was starting to have a more immediate, and far less threatening, effect, as she rested against her husband and started to yawn.

"Sounds like somebody is tired," he murmured, pressing his lips against the top of her head gently. "Perhaps we should both get some sleep, now. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day."

C.C. was slightly annoyed by the idea of having to sleep – it meant she couldn't spend any more time with Niles. But her eyes were growing heavy, and she knew that even if she didn't actively try to sleep then, she'd probably drift off anyway.

At least she'd get one more night in his arms.

"Alright," she conceded, slowly slipping down into the bedsheets and allowing Niles to tuck her in, and himself beside her. "Hold me?"

"Of course, sweetheart," he smiled, and gently wrapped his arms around her, nestling in as close to her as he possibly could and kissing her forehead. "Always."

"Goodnight, darling," C.C. whispered, cuddling against him and closing her eyes.

"Goodnight, my love," he muttered in reply, waiting for her to fall asleep.

He enjoyed the sight of her, completely peaceful and without a care of what was to happen the next day, for a long time. He was going to take in everything about her, and memorise it, and that image would keep him going for the next few months. He'd carry her in his head and his heart when they weren't together, and he'd share the time with her that they were allowed. And when it was all over, he'd treasure each and every second – they both would, because he knew that she wouldn't let go of her life, and he wouldn't let go of her.

Eventually, he could feel his own eyes growing heavy, and as he closed them he rested his head against hers.

The last thing he remembered before drifting into his own sleep was tightening his hold on his wife.


	20. Chapter 20

**_Chapter 20_**

 ** _3 Years Later..._**

"Niles, are you ready to go?" his wife's voice drifted to him, a hint of irritation in it.

She had wanted to leave to the doctor's appointment almost half an hour ago, but he had taken more time than he had expected in the bathroom. It was a big day, for the both of them, and he wanted to look his best.

Sometimes he couldn't believe the fiery producer known as "The Bitch of Broadway" had been his wife for three years now, and he certainly couldn't believe it had also been three years since she was discharged from the hospital.

He still remembered the months she had spent inside an isolated room – if he was being honest, they had been horribly tough, but not as hard as they had expected. C.C.'s body had accepted Niles' donation without setbacks, and it took seven weeks for her immunological system to start rebuilding itself with the help of Niles' bone marrow. He had spent almost all his time inside her room, not caring that he needed to wear protective gear or that he had had to keep some physical distance with his wife.

She had come out of the hospital feeling like a new woman, and it wasn't long until she had entered remission. Of course she was not completely cured yet – five years without her cancer coming back needed to go past for her to be completely recovered. Hence her having to attend regular check-ups and subject herself to routine tests.

Her hair had taken a while, but it had eventually grown back. But it had changed... it wasn't the same straight, blonde hair that she'd had before her cancer; her hair was now wavy and dark blonde – actually, she had the same hair colour as Niles. Wilson had explained her it was a side effect of the chemo, and although she wouldn't admit it to her husband, she liked her new hair better.

Fran often joked about just how perfect Niles and C.C. were for each other – they were a bone marrow match, were married and now had the same hair colour!

"Niles, please," C.C. said, stepping into their bedroom. "We need to go – I'd rather know what the tests say sooner rather than later."

Niles smiled softly. He could see just how afraid his wife was underneath her show of impatience. This was truly a matter that had become almost a burden for her, and he knew she wouldn't be able to take an unwanted result.

"Don't worry, Babcock, I was just finishing fastening my tie," he said, smoothing his suit and giving his wife a gentle smile – the latter soon turned into a frown when he noticed C.C.'s unyielding unease. He walked to her and wound his arms around her. "Hey, relax, everything will be fine."

"And how do you know that? What if it goes wrong?"

Her husband took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly, "Then we know exactly what we'll be doing, don't we? We've already talked this over, and we know how to cope with any possible outcome."

C.C. still wasn't completely sure, and it showed on her face. Niles gave her a gentle squeeze.

"We're going to be fine," he near-whispered, pecking her on the lips. "We just have to keep faith, like always."

He was right, and she knew it. They'd talked it over plenty of times – what they would do in the event of either result. It hadn't prevented a restless night, even if the knowledge of having a plan for either outcome was soothing.

She was just anxious to get in there and find out. And, like Niles had said, they had to keep faith. There was always hope, they just had to keep going until that hope was real.

She let out a small sigh, and nodded at him, "Alright. Okay. Yeah, keep faith. That's all we've gotta do right now."

"It's all we can do," he said. "But trust me; it will be enough. Now, I believe that a certain someone was eager to get going?"

His wife gave him a gentle smile, and began to practically drag him to the front door, "I believe I was. Come on; the sooner we get there, the better."

It was both comical and endearing to see C.C. practically running towards the car, too; the woman was already sat on her seat and had buckled her belt by the time he made it to the driver's seat.

Usually, his wife was the one who drove, but it seemed she had other plans. It was no wonder – she could rarely concentrate when she was nervous. Niles soon put the key in the engine,l and the car slowly came to life.

Much to Niles' amusement, C.C. immediately turned the stereo on and tuned the classic Rock n' Roll hits station. Songs of her favourite artists were soon resonating inside the car, and she sometimes sang along.

It was nice to see her so happy...

He knew she was trying to keep her hopes up.

The hospital came into view just when "I Saw Her Standing There" began, and after they had found a comfortable parking space, Niles turned off the car and they headed to the entrance. They had arrived a little early, so both Brightmores were guided to a rather bland waiting room, which served to make C.C. slightly more impatient.

Knowing his wife, Niles kept his arm wrapped around her waist at all times, only letting it go when both jumped to their feet the moment her doctor called their names.

"Hello Mr and Mrs Brightmore," Dr Smith said, inviting the couple into his office. "It's a pleasure to see you again. Please, sit down!"

The couple almost dashed to the two plastic chairs before Smith's desk, but the couple was feeling slightly more at ease. There was something in the doctor's look that gave them hope.

"As you can guess, I have your tests," the doctor said, plopping himself down onto his own chair.

"And how did they go?" C.C. asked, edging closer to the desk.

"Well... I must tell you, I was surprised... but they were positive."

 _"P-positive?!"_ Niles exclaimed, starting to feel a little faint.

"Indeed," Smith gave a nod.

"Are you... are you sure?" C.C. asked, her voice cracking. She felt Niles reaching out for her hand and he squeezed it.

Smith nodded again. "Absolutely sure," the doctor looked between the couple and smiled. "So, congratulations, you are pregnant!"

"Pregnant..." a beaming smile began to spread across C.C.'s face – one that was more overjoyed and more triumphant than Niles had seen in a long time. "I'm pregnant!"

Before he could faint dead away, he found himself being swept up into C.C.'s arms. The support of his wife's body against his brought him back from the edge, and soon they were hugging tightly as they laughed and cried at the same time.

After trying for so long, they were having a baby...

It had taken them a year and a half, but they were finally going to start their family. All the planning that they'd done for this outcome wasn't going to be in vain. They could start making the plans reality – the nursery they'd talked over several thousand times, the names they had made lists of that they liked...telling their friends and family that what they'd all been hoping for was finally going to happen...

There were a few people waiting out there to hear who they'd name godfather, too. Noel hadn't been able to keep that bet to himself, and Wilson had put so much money on it, it would almost be a shame to not name him a godparent.

He'd be receiving a phone call very soon – as soon as they left the office, actually – as would the Sheffields.

"I love you, C.C," Niles burst out, burying his face in her shoulder. "I love you so much..."

C.C. mimicked his behaviour, pressing herself into his shoulder as far as she could go, "I love you too, Niles. We're gonna have our family..."

They didn't know for how long they held each other, but they were soon brought back to reality by Dr Smith clearing his throat. He hadn't had the heart to interrupt them moments ago – after all, the couple had been trying to conceive for a year and a half! Actually, if this assisted fertilisation didn't work, they had agreed to try in vitro fertilisation. Mrs Brightmore had gone through an aggressive treatment for her cancer, which had taken its toll on her reproductive system, but they finally had their little bundle of joy on the way.

"Thank you for everything, Dr Smith!" Niles exclaimed, shaking Smith's proffered hand. "But I believe this won't be the last time we'll see each other, right?"

Both butler and the obstetrician smiled. "No, actually this is merely the beginning. Now that Mrs Brightmore is pregnant, she'll need to rest and we'll start her up in prenatal vitamins – all to ensure your little one's safety and, of course, for Mrs Brightmore to have tranquil pregnancy."

"Of course, doctor, anything for our baby!" C.C. said.

After they had set a new appointment with C.C.'s obstetrician, the couple bade Dr Smith a warm farewell and slowly exited the office, feeling happier than ever before.

As soon as they were outside the hospital doors, they couldn't help but throw their arms around each other again, the last of their tears still falling.

"Our baby," Niles breathed, pulling away to crouch a little and tenderly run a hand over C.C.'s belly. "Our very own..."

C.C. gripped at his fingers, a part of her wanting to roll her eyes at her husband's behaviour, considering there was no bump yet and no other indications that she was pregnant, other than what they'd been told. But she was really mostly too happy to care, and seeing the look of wonder on his face only helped that. She wasn't going to tease him over it – now wasn't the time. Maybe later, when they'd calmed down.

Not that they'd be calming down for a very long time.

"That's right, Butler Boy," she bit back her grin. "Our very own family, at long last."

Niles straightened up again, kissed her on the lips enthusiastically, and clutched at her upper arms, "We need to tell everyone – the Sheffields, the Wilsons, your parents-"

"Alright, calm down, Niles!" C.C. laughed. "Slow everything right down. We need to get home first, and then we can start phoning people."

The producer made a pause, an idea having crept into her mind. Niles quirked a questioning eyebrow at her – he must have realised she had come up with an idea by the look on her face.

"Or..." she mused aloud, "we could invite them all to dinner tonight and break the news there! It would save us a lot of time and I bet both Nanny Fine and my parents would appreciate us telling them in person than by phone call."

Niles nodded in agreement. Frankly, he didn't care how the news were told, he only cared about the fact that he was starting a family with the woman of his life. Not long ago, forming a family was merely a dream – you know, one of those pleasant daydreams that were nice to think about but that one knows that they'd probably never be true...

And yet here he was...

Married, and his wife was pregnant with his baby. It was truly a dream come true... it had been so hard to get to the point they were at; they had been enemies for years and then, all of a sudden, their future had been made uncertain by a terrible illness.

But it was that illness what had brought them together. Neither of them were happy about C.C. having suffered from cancer, but in a sense it had been what had showed them just how precious time was.

He wrapped an arm around his wife's waist and pecked her cheek as they walked to the car.

"If that's what you want to do, then we'll do it!"

And so they did! The rest of the afternoon was spent between calling their different guests – the Sheffields, the Wilsons and her parents – to invite them for dinner and preparing everything for their arrival.

The two were practically buzzing with excitement by the time the doorbell rang, announcing their first guests. They had agreed to try and keep the enthusiasm to themselves as best they could until all the guests had arrived and dinner was either underway or finished, but it was going to be hard.

Of course, the first to arrive were the Sheffields. Fran was never one to miss an evening out, seeing as it came with dressing nicely and a decent amount of good food.

And there was going to be plenty of it that night – Niles had been so happy, he had prepared a fantastic spread and picked out a nice wine for those who wanted it. Because of C.C.'s treatment, it wouldn't look too out of place for her not to be drinking, and Niles had decided he wouldn't drink immediately either, both in a show of support for his wife and to make sure he had a completely clear head when they told their friends and family.

Something must have still appeared off to the Sheffields, though, because as they seated themselves in the living room, Fran cocked her head to one side, suspicious.

"You guys seem really happy about something today. Somethin's goin' on here..." she gestured to the couple, before gasping and clasping her hands together in her lap. "Have yer got confirmation C.C.'s cancer's gone? I know it's early, but I don't know, maybe the doctor's have found somethin' which says it's not comin' back?"

"Well," C.C. started, exchanging a look with her husband. "The latest tests said everything is fine, but we still have to wait two more years to safely say I'm completely cured."

"Which are good news in themselves," Niles interjected, pouring some wine into Fran and Maxwell's cups.

The two brunettes squinted at their friends – by now even Maxwell, who was denser than he was willing to admit, had realised that there was something off. It wasn't unusual for the Brightmores to invite them over for dinner, but they didn't usually do it in such a short notice.

"What are you keeping from us?" Maxwell said, taking a sip of his wine.

Luckily for both Brightmores, the bell rang again, and the couple almost rushed towards the door.

"Hello, Kitten!" Stewart exclaimed as soon as the door opened, wrapping his arms around his daughter. He then turned towards Niles and shook his hand. "How are you two doing?"

"We are just fine, Stewart," Niles said. "We just have some news to share with you, that's all."

The elder couple exchanged a look.

"News? What does your husband mean, Chastity?" B.B. asked, stepping into the penthouse.

"Why don't we all get in before we discuss this, hm?" Niles offered, gesturing towards the living room. "Besides, we still have to wait for-"

"No you don't!" Wilson called cheerfully as both he and Lisa – who had recently become Mrs Wilson – stepped out of the elevator. "We are here, so we better hurry up – knowing you both, this must be good."

Niles sighed. He had been hoping to get his in-laws settled and drinks in-hand before the Wilsons arrived. It might have given them more time to calm everyone down in preparation for telling them the news at dinner, but that obviously wasn't meant to be. By the sound of things, they probably wouldn't even make it to dinner before everyone knew.

Oh, well. It would have been nice, but if it wasn't going to happen, then...well, what could they do? He supposed it didn't really matter exactly when they got told, as long as they all got told.

Besides, in the heat of the moment, he would probably be too excited and blab the news, anyway.

With another sigh, this time accompanied by an eye roll (slightly put on in order to generate at least a little bit of amusement), Niles opened up the front door as wide as it would go in order to invite everyone inside.

Soon, absolutely everyone was seated in their living room, drinks all filled, and they were all ready for either Niles or C.C. to finally tell them why they'd been invited over at such short notice. The couple shared a look, and a quick but beaming smile, before taking each others' hands.

This was it. They were going to tell them.

"Well, what's going on with you two?" Fran asked. "You've kept us on tenterhooks for far too long!"

"That's right, Kitten, what is it that you have to tell us?" Stewart piped up, instinctively reaching out for his wife's hand. Barbara and Stewart had finally gotten civilly remarried almost a year ago, and ever since then marriage was going wonderfully.

C.C. supposed her parents' nervousness stemmed from the fact that neither knew if the news were good or bad. Well... they certainly were going to get a nice surprise!

"Relax, everybody," C.C. said, making a quelling gesture with her hands. "It's not bad news at all."

"That's right," Wilson interjected, "I'd know if they were bad – I'm still her oncologist, after all."

And it was true; C.C. was still Wilson's patient. She had to attend regular check ups and the oncologist was still very much aware of her health. Gregory knew she was trying to get pregnant – as a matter of fact, he had given them a few indications to improve the probability of C.C. getting pregnant. He had also been there to support them when the many procedures that had been carried out before this one, failed.

"What's more, I think I have a clue of the reason behind this meeting," he propped his chin in the palm of his hand. "So, Babcock, am I going to be a godfather in a few months?"

C.C. smirked, "If, by that, you're asking if we are going to have a baby, then...well, the answer is yes."

The room immediately erupted into cheers and squeals of delight from all sides as their loved ones practically jumped out of their seats to congratulate the couple with hugs and kisses.

Fran, as she would be, was the first to reach C.C., and embraced her, eyes full of tears.

"This is such wonderful news!" the former nanny cried. "We've gotta getcha ready fer the baby ta get here, now! We've gotta go shopping an' get in the clothes an' the toys and start plannin' a nursery-"

"Fran, we've only just found out ourselves; give it time," Niles was beaming, but he was telling her firmly and gently to quiet down a little bit, and addressing her turned her attention away from C.C., allowing Stewart to come forward and put his arms around his daughter.

"I'm sorry; I can't help it!" Fran was grinning all over her face. "I'm just gettin' overexcited thinkin' about it!"

"Well, you're not the only one!" Stewart piped up, giving his daughter a kiss on the cheek. "Oh, Kitten, you're gonna be such a great mother! My little girl, having a baby – it's going to be beautiful!"

He then looked up at his son-in-law, who had just finished shaking hands with Maxwell, beamed, and thrust his own hand into Niles', clasping it tightly.

"And I have to congratulate you, too, my boy!" he said cheerfully. "You must be the proudest man on the planet today!"

Niles grinned. The older man completely understood how he felt – that he truly was the luckiest man in the world. He had a beautiful wife – a pregnant beautiful wife – and they were going to be parents in just a few months...

He could barely believe it himself.

"Thank you, Stewart, I do feel blessed," Niles the turned to his mother in law, who had yet to emit an opinion. Of course she had cheered and seemed happy with the news, but he was rather anxious to hear what she truly thought.

"I suppose congratulations are in order to you too," B.B. said, crossing her arms across her front. "But you do realise I expect you to treat my daughter the way she deserves to be treated in her new state, don't you?"

Niles tried not to roll his eyes at his mother-in-law. He knew that she'd never consider him a suitable partner for his daughter, but she had at least celebrated the news.

"You can be certain of that, Mrs Babcock," he smiled.

"Don't worry, Mother, I can fend for myself," C.C. piped up, coming to wrap her arms around Niles. "Besides, I daresay he is already housetrained."

There was a small smattering of laughter around the room, which Niles allowed. He returned her gesture by wrapping his own arms around his wife as best he could.

"I'm letting you have that one both because we have company and because we are celebrating," he told her, his voice not losing any of its cheerful tone.

"Ah! There, you see?" the producer grinned at her parents. "Completely housetrained."

"I suppose I walked into that one, didn't I?" Niles feigned an unimpressed look.

Stewart beamed, and wrapped an arm around B.B., "Don't worry about it, Niles; you'll get used to it."

B.B. rolled her eyes at her husband, and he grinned back, before kissing her temple softly. C.C. held in a chuckle – there was definitely something warming about seeing her parents together as they were. Rediscovering their love and being properly married had done wonders for them both.

The tender moment was interrupted by a timer going off in the kitchen, which made them all start.

"Oh! That will be dinner," Niles reluctantly withdrew his arm from around C.C. and began to head towards the kitchen. "Everyone take a seat, I shall be serving momentarily."

Seeing as C.C. was (obviously) the star of the night, the producer sat down at the head of the table, her husband by her right and Wilson to her left. It was still slightly strange – being gathered together, as a family, and celebrating life – even after all the time that had gone by.

C.C. had always been alone, she had always fended for herself... and now she had somewhere – someone to whom – she belonged to. And not only that, but she was also bringing a new life into this wonderful family.

A life Niles, her husband, had helped to create.

Her cancer almost felt like a bad dream. A nightmare from which she had escaped... but the presence of Wilson and his wife, once her oncologist and and nurse, proved that it had been very much real.

But, despite the pain and sorrow that having cancer had caused, in a sense it had also allowed her to open up, fall in love and – surprisingly enough – be happy.

It wasn't the disease what had made her happy, not at all, it was the support that she had been given. It was the love, the understanding... she had finally realised she mattered.

The producer was started out of her musings – something for which she was thankful; they were getting too sappy – by Wilson clinking a fork against his glass.

"Gentleman, ladies and Babcock," he smirked at his patient. "I'm sorry to interrupt your afable talk but, seeing as my godchild is on the way-"

"And how do you know it's gonna be your godchild? It could be Maxwell's or Noel's!" C.C. Said pointedly.

Maxwell puffed out his chest proudly at the mention of his name, and Fran rubbed his arm.

""Could be", sweetie, she said "could be"," she told him quietly, waiting for her husband to settle down a little, which he eventually did.

Wilson picked up his glass of wine, giving C.C. a smug look, "I know very well that the two of you will make me the godfather to the little Brightmore. You wanna know how I know? Because, without me, there wouldn't be any little one to celebrate the impending arrival of. The two of you would still be doing your little dance around each other like you were two unintroduced guests at a Victorian dance – never touching, never making a move out of place. But you know what it takes to interrupt something so refined, but so delicate? One little push. A push courtesy of yours truly. Your brother doesn't live close enough for any long-term plan to be an option, and if Mr Sheffield over there ever suspected anything between the two of you, he never made an effort to try and make that suspected 'anything' become a firm 'something'. No offence, Maxwell."

He sipped his drink, and looked around at the others at the table, before continuing.

"Thus concludes my presentation on why I am clearly the winning candidate for the title of godfather to Mr and Mrs Brightmore's baby."

He settled his glass back down, and Niles saw Lisa cringing through her smile at her husband's little speech.

"You pompous, self-entitled asshole," C.C. said, barely being able to conceal her delight. "Although I don't know if you are going to be the baby's godfather – and even if I did, I wouldn't tell you – I must admit, we owe you big time."

"Darling," Niles cut in, one of his hands slipping underneath the table to rest on her belly. She might not be showing yet, but in there she was carrying his baby. "You do know that by telling him this you are inflating his ego, don't you?"

"Well, it's already the same size as your backside, so I figured it wouldn't make any difference if it was a bit more swollen."

Niles gave his wife a deadpan look. "That's rich coming from you – do tell me, are you collecting chins?"

"Oh, shut up! Thanks for trying my maternity jeans, by the way! I'll need them in a few months."

"Aw, look at them!" Wilson exclaimed in an overly sweet voice, batting his eyelashes. "I stand by one statement I made a few years ago – it's like watching an Animal Planet documentary."

"Thanks for giving us a piece of your mind, Wilson, we know you don't have much to spare," the producer shot back, silencing the very amused doctor. He liked to partake in their battle of wits, too, and he knew when to concede defeat.

"Now, in all seriousness," Niles said, looking between their guests. "We truly thank you for having come tonight – we owe you a lot to you and we are delighted to have you here tonight."

"Then, as it's customary, I think we should toast," Stewart piped up.

With murmurs of agreement and approval, everyone begain to raise their glasses.

"To C.C. and Niles: congratulations, and to the new little one they have on the way: we can't wait to meet you," the older man announced.

The others echoed the sentiment, and with a chorus of "Cheers", they all clinked their glasses together, before settling back into eating their meal and chatting amicably.

Niles and C.C. shared a smile as they both looked up from their food at the same time. Their life had come so far, with so much drama having to happen to get them there, so it was nice to be able to celebrate some joyous news with a good meal, surrounded by loved ones, in a quiet and familiar environment.

They slipped their hands under the table, and entwined fingers. It was nice to be able to get a little bit of closeness and intimacy, even when sat at a dinner table filled with friends and family. It was a reminder that, throughout everything, their bond – the love they shared and the connection they had to each other – was something ever-present, unaffected by disease, distance, or interference from the outside world.

And that's the way it was going to stay.

 **THE END**

* * *

 **AN: Well... and once again we have come to an end. Thank you for reading our story and for all your reviews and support. We hope you've enjoyed the ride as much as we did! As usual, we hope you take the time to review! You see, it truly makes us happy and it keeps us going.**

 **H &L**


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